The Colosseum lay empty, the vastness of this place was unsettling in the absence of noise. No echoes of Chuunin sparring, no clatter of weapons, no murmured voices from trainees lingering after drills. Today, the arena held no souls save for the few who had been allowed inside, and Nozomi who had spent the entire evening training. It was eerie to see a man who stood tall and broad shouldered, with a cape trailing behind him like a super hero, make his way into the arena proper. This, piqued Nozomi's interest, and in the spirit of not being caught, she would devise an alternate route.
From the outer walls of the Colosseum proper, Nozomi pressed herself into the stone, clay clinging to her fingertips. She would infuse chakra into this clay which would allow her to stick to such a smooth surface and climb. What drove her to such lengths? It was curiosity that gnawed at her until it became impossible to ignore. Whatever was about to take place, she needed to see it. Her ascent was silent and she was careful to make it so. She molded the clay thin and sticky, securing her weight against the ancient surface with ease. Her breathing stayed measured, her body close to the wall as she climbed. Inch by inch she pulled herself upward until she reached the top rim. She quickly located a proper spot, tucked into a crease of shadow where the wall met an arch, she would crouch low. The clay strands she had used for the climb were peeled away and tucked back, leaving no sign of her presence. From this vantage, she could see everything below.
The only figure out on the arena floor was the man she saw enter, red hair glinting against the freshly polished armor that fitted tight to his frame. Even at a distance, Nozomi could see contrast between his ragged beard that likely hid a tired face, and his armor that burnished with care. He moved with the ease of command, and there was no mistaking his presence for someone ordinary.
Then, another arrived. Smaller, cloaked, with hood drawn low, and a mask which concealed all expression. Their steps were so light they barely disturbed the sand. The faceless figure’s presence stiffened something inside Nozomi. She remembered another mask like it, worn by the one with similar stature who had confronted her beneath the city when she had lingered too long where she wasn’t meant to be. Was this the same one? She couldn’t know for certain, but the similarity tightened her chest all the same.
Now, they stood across from one another and it looked like a knight in shining armor standing off against darkness. A giant against the shadow.
Nozomi wished she could hear them, but from her high perch she could only see the movement of mouths, the shifting of stances, and gestures passing between them. Whatever was being spoken was lost to distance and wind. Were they challenging each other? Setting rules? She could only guess. The tall man seemed eager as he shifted his weight, rolled his shoulders, and set his stance with a smirk tugging faintly at his lips. The masked figure tilted their head, as though reminding him of limits, or warning him of caution. It felt less like a brawl and more like something structured. Two titans were testing one another, but with restraint born of responsibility.
From her place on the rim, Nozomi pressed her palms harder into the stone because she knew these weren’t common shinobi. They were something else, something far beyond her reach. She shouldn’t be here, and she knew if she were caught, there would be consequences. Yet her body remained rooted, just like when she saw the interrogation. She needed to watch.
A shift in the air drew her attention sharply back to the red haired man. His smirk deepened as energy rolled from him in a wave she felt even at her perch as the arena itself seemed to hum. He raised one hand high in a formal stance as the sound began and then... it struck. The ground shook as a massive weapon materialized from the air above, slamming into the sand with thunderous force. The weapon was an axe, a monstrous thing which caused Nozomi's eyes to widen. This was a declaration of the strength that existed within the village’s highest ranks. To summon such a thing so casually, just to begin a fight, was an overwhelming amount of power Nozomi could hardly comprehend.
Below, the red haired man stood before the colossal axe with a calm certainty, his posture daring the masked figure to make their move.
From the shadows above, Nozomi watched in careful silence with clay stained fingers digging into the stone. She did not know their names, their intentions, or the outcome that would follow. All she knew was that this was power, raw and unrestrained. It was the kind of ceiling she could only dream of reaching one day.
She would not look away.
[Marked for Training, WC: 844]
From the outer walls of the Colosseum proper, Nozomi pressed herself into the stone, clay clinging to her fingertips. She would infuse chakra into this clay which would allow her to stick to such a smooth surface and climb. What drove her to such lengths? It was curiosity that gnawed at her until it became impossible to ignore. Whatever was about to take place, she needed to see it. Her ascent was silent and she was careful to make it so. She molded the clay thin and sticky, securing her weight against the ancient surface with ease. Her breathing stayed measured, her body close to the wall as she climbed. Inch by inch she pulled herself upward until she reached the top rim. She quickly located a proper spot, tucked into a crease of shadow where the wall met an arch, she would crouch low. The clay strands she had used for the climb were peeled away and tucked back, leaving no sign of her presence. From this vantage, she could see everything below.
The only figure out on the arena floor was the man she saw enter, red hair glinting against the freshly polished armor that fitted tight to his frame. Even at a distance, Nozomi could see contrast between his ragged beard that likely hid a tired face, and his armor that burnished with care. He moved with the ease of command, and there was no mistaking his presence for someone ordinary.
Then, another arrived. Smaller, cloaked, with hood drawn low, and a mask which concealed all expression. Their steps were so light they barely disturbed the sand. The faceless figure’s presence stiffened something inside Nozomi. She remembered another mask like it, worn by the one with similar stature who had confronted her beneath the city when she had lingered too long where she wasn’t meant to be. Was this the same one? She couldn’t know for certain, but the similarity tightened her chest all the same.
Now, they stood across from one another and it looked like a knight in shining armor standing off against darkness. A giant against the shadow.
Nozomi wished she could hear them, but from her high perch she could only see the movement of mouths, the shifting of stances, and gestures passing between them. Whatever was being spoken was lost to distance and wind. Were they challenging each other? Setting rules? She could only guess. The tall man seemed eager as he shifted his weight, rolled his shoulders, and set his stance with a smirk tugging faintly at his lips. The masked figure tilted their head, as though reminding him of limits, or warning him of caution. It felt less like a brawl and more like something structured. Two titans were testing one another, but with restraint born of responsibility.
From her place on the rim, Nozomi pressed her palms harder into the stone because she knew these weren’t common shinobi. They were something else, something far beyond her reach. She shouldn’t be here, and she knew if she were caught, there would be consequences. Yet her body remained rooted, just like when she saw the interrogation. She needed to watch.
A shift in the air drew her attention sharply back to the red haired man. His smirk deepened as energy rolled from him in a wave she felt even at her perch as the arena itself seemed to hum. He raised one hand high in a formal stance as the sound began and then... it struck. The ground shook as a massive weapon materialized from the air above, slamming into the sand with thunderous force. The weapon was an axe, a monstrous thing which caused Nozomi's eyes to widen. This was a declaration of the strength that existed within the village’s highest ranks. To summon such a thing so casually, just to begin a fight, was an overwhelming amount of power Nozomi could hardly comprehend.
Below, the red haired man stood before the colossal axe with a calm certainty, his posture daring the masked figure to make their move.
From the shadows above, Nozomi watched in careful silence with clay stained fingers digging into the stone. She did not know their names, their intentions, or the outcome that would follow. All she knew was that this was power, raw and unrestrained. It was the kind of ceiling she could only dream of reaching one day.
She would not look away.
[Marked for Training, WC: 844]