Private The changes.

[Toraono Ryota]

Ryota stood in a dimly lit room, looking around with a questioning gaze. Slowly a weight of betrayal started to sink in. Friends turned to Enemies that had crossed a line, and now, fueled by a burning desire for revenge, they were to step into a world darker than they ever imagined. But a little bit did Ryota know, the hunt wouldn’t just be for vengeance since someone was already at his trail.​

Earlier that week.

Each week, Ryota would grab a box of Spicy Hot Chicken and regular ones; his roommate loved that kind of thing, and he could barely eat that spicy sh-t. As he walked through the town, he pretended like he didn’t notice the toothless bums slouched away in the corners. Further up ahead was a small mob forming, waving cardboard signs, all of which had red x’s on them and bad words. The world this, the decade that… If only they had been there at that attack.

He had just taken a bite out of his own drumstick, the cartilage popped like a knuckle, and the door banged open. Not… the way that normal people did, but with a full arm. The kind of swing you would give the poor door if your hands were full. It was his team leader who had to track him down, since Ryota didn’t answer any of the other things. “Oi, we have a job!” He commented before making his way in front of him. A heavy sigh left Ryota; it seemed like he had to do a lot of work again.

“…” Ryota remained silent as the leader went through the mission details. It was a simple raid for information, it seemed to be. But he didn’t like his teammates. It was a regular mission, not ANBU, so he didn’t understand why he had to be here. He shrugged it off and looked at the file in front. “A raid on an old home?” He questioned and looked at the floor planner. It seemed like a small home, so why was a team of 3 shinobi and 1 leader needed?

Inside the house… it was eerie, dark, and the dust bunnies were littering the place. One teammate coughed a little as he went through the place. “It sure is musky,” Ryota muttered softly as they went through the place. Everything looked so normal that it was weird with all the stories from the files. People went nuts out of the blue, often with dinner parties. This made sure that the 3 genin went through the place as fine as a comb while the team leader stood there watching. It was eventually a genin that found a draft behind an old clockwork. “That… is an old granny clock?” A young blonde asked the leader, who seemed to nod in agreement. “It is an ornate grandfather’s clock.” He answered as his hands were going near it. “It… feels like a little draft,” Ryota commented as he stood close to the side of it. With that… They found out that behind that clock was a small and narrow passage. “This… was probably used to transport something… but it’s small.”
“Didn’t the report say that they often had small kids around?”
“True.. But they always seemed to disappear.”
“Oi oi… if we find child bones-!”
“We won’t!”
The thought alone left Ryota silent and looking to the side. That was an eerie idea even for him.

The shortest straw… A little tunnel that closed on his shoulders, giving his skin a taste of unwashed pipe and dead rat. Ryota tucked in his chin, exhaled, and made himself even smaller. Behind him, he could hear his teammates making sarcastic huffing noises. Ryota gritted his teeth and snaked forward, led by the dim light of a small pocket torch.

He blinked. The light threw a pale oval across the concrete, highlighting the frantic sight of spiderwebs and the fine, white, grey dust that coated everything like ancient neglect. With each drag of his forearm, he felt the grit rasp on his skin, abrading him into something meaner. The walls sucked in all the sound, and for a few seconds, it was just Ryota’s pulse you could hear and the scratching of his clothing against the tunnel.

 

[Toraono Ryota]

His feet made a little puff on the concrete; the noise was just a whisper. He finally got out of the tunnel and was watching his surroundings. He already noticed that his headset wasn’t reacting to anything and only gave static sound. With that in mind, he didn’t call through the tunnel. You never knew what could be around here. It was all dusty, and everything was dark and barely lit. Looking around, he noticed that there were faint emergency lights overhead, blinking erratically. Roughly around every 5 meters, there was a brick of glowing red… Their coverswere spattered with old grime and stuff to nasty to look at up close. The static of his headset ebbed and flowed, only getting softer when he turned the volume wheel down and let the silence speak for itself.

He kept to the wall, ducking under a collapsed sign that had been hanging from the last screw for probably years by the look of it… The letters? All faded into nothing.

At the end of the corridor, the darkness thickened. He turned off the torch and waited. He would wait, let his vision adapt to the darkness. A faint line of another tunnel started to shape… the more he moved toward there, the more it looked like the mouth of a sleeping animal. But that was a cutout animal. The surroundings were, however, wet, just as he thought of taking a step back. His boot was already going through the pooled water. A groan left the teen as he retracted his feet and looked down. This part was half underwater… Underwater in the flipping desert. Not risking it to be stillwater, he turned back and took the other door.

“How… are you in here?” A question that sits heavy in the air. A set of glowing eyes turned to Ryota and he asked again. “How did you get in here?” Furrowing his brows, Ryota questioned back. “I should ask you… You didn’t pass through that tunnel.” It was then that Ryota noticed a scent. It was sweet, and only now he noticed how the other had a mask on. ‘Fluff.’ Was the first thought. That rumor… that people went insane at dinner places. That wasn’t just the diner, it was the house. ’ There is probably a tubing system in the majority of this place. But for what and why.’ He asked himself before placing a gas mask on his face. “Ah, you caught on. I wish I could say the same for cap.”

Slowly, Ryota took up a guarding stance as he tried to understand those words. “Bit slow, huh… Hah, well, I guess you aren’t immune to this gas either. Even a little bit can make you whoopy.” He laughed as he had just explained. A wet, mushy sound came from their boot as he rose a bit in the air. Clearly stepping on something…

 

[Toraono Ryota]

Ryota stood in a dimly lit room, looking around with a questioning gaze. Slowly, a weight of betrayal started to sink in. Friends turned to Enemies that had crossed a line, and now, fueled by a burning desire for revenge, they were to step into a world darker than they ever imagined. But a little bit did Ryota know, the hunt wouldn’t just be for vengeance since someone was already on his trail.

“You shouldn’t have come looking, Ryota.” Masato hissed under his breath while closing the distance between them. His first punch was like a piston, aimed straight for Ryota’s jaw. It almost landed, but Ryota barely slipped it. He felt the wind of the punch brushing his cheek. The second punch came from the left, and it was brutally fast and aimed for his kidney. Ryota managed to twist his body, but not enough. Pain exploded through his side, hot and like a stab. His vision blurred as he staggered backwards, knocking over some old stools.

Blood filled Ryota’s mouth where he had bitten his tongue. Across from him, Masato smirked, rolling his shoulders in reply. The blackened veins under his skin pulsed… “Oi oi…” Ryota spat red onto the floor. “You were prepared for this.” His voice rasped as he stood straight again. The other man… Simply laughed.

This was not the sparring of youth. This was dismantling.

A lot of blows started to rain down on Ryota, a jab to the ribs, across to the shoulders. Ryota did manage to block some, but others landed with dull, meathy thuds. His vision started to swim; he was stronger… But Masata’s punches were so precise that even he, as a Hyuuga, began to break. Every single punch was calculated to break and bruise… The world began to dim around the edges, but the burning in his gut flared brighter. He would die before he let this betrayal go any further.

The next hit came hard and fast; it landed on the temple, which made Ryota’s knees buckle, and he hit the ground hard. Distantly, he heard the clatter of his own teeth. A hand grabbed his hair, yanking it back hard. Cold metal pressed against his throat. A tanto from the looks of it. Ryota’s breath hitched, the scent of iron and dust mixed sickly in the air. Blood dropped into his collar, warm and sticky.

But Ryota’s brain didn’t stand still; his fingers were already moving below his sleeve. A twist, a jerk, and the hidden blade flew blind. It sank into the flesh of Masato, who was hidden, and his grip quickly faltered. The knife clattered between them, and Ryota did not let a single moment slip. Ryota lunged forward, slamming his forehead into Masato’s nose, and it gave a wet crunch.

Desperately, Ryota focused the chakra burning in his gut. His hands flew through a few familiar sets of hand signs. Lightning style; Amp Field. A small Amp field, Masato was quick with a counterattack. With a flick of his own hand, he performed a single hand seal. An earth wall… This made his field less effective. Since Ryota did this in a quick motion, it wasn’t as thoughtful through, not only… But everything he had already been doing today, and then this. All the efforts felt too draining to him.

Yet that brief distraction gave Masato a quick surge of forward momentum. A first buried itself in Ryota’s solar plexus, driving the air out of his lungs. Ryota doubled over, and as he did, his face met the knee of him. He felt his nose give way, and a warm flood of blood coated his lips and chin soon.

Ryota fell to the cold floor, dust made way for his body, and the world tilted on its axis. Through a haze of pain, he saw Masato standing over him, not even winded and putting his nose back in place. As he tried to get back up, Masato kicked him in his ribs, which cracked under the weight of it. A cry of pain left the young teen, and he saw the world blur even further. “Such a pleasing aroma in the air you sniffed, huh…” He grinned even wider, which gave Ryota an idea as to why he was so sluggish, so quickly drained… and probably how he exactly started to defeat the Jounin.

But as his consciousness flickered, a darker truth whispered at the edge of his fading thoughts. The footsteps he’d heard echoing his own... they hadn’t been his imagination. Someone else was here, watching from the shadows, waiting for the winner to be decided. The real hunt was just beginning, and Ryota was already the prey.

 

[Toraono Ryota]

The scalpel nicked the side of his thumb again, Tsukki hissed. Sucking the blood away, he glared at the stubborn root clutched in his palm. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but he just couldn’t stop worrying. He glanced across the sky again, where a pendant lay, a tracker to be more precise. It lay there motionless, not blinking softly as it should. It often happened that it would go off for a little while, but not like this - not for hours.

The root finally snapped from his grip. He had tossed it into a mortar and would grind that thing with so much more force than was needed. The sharp scent filled the cramped space, mingling with the metallic tang of his own blood. Outside, he heard a patrol pass the boarded-up windows. Its searchlight shone just past the cracks of the plywood.

He wiped his hands clean on his apron, leaving smears of green and red. The rational thing would be to wait… But that disappearance left him rather worried. Ryota was good at disappearing, but not like this. Without knowing better, he already grabbed his coat, already grabbed some essentials.

The door creaked shut behind him, the alley swallowing his footsteps as he moved through the labyrinth of alleys. Every few steps, he checked a taser in his pocket. It wouldn’t save his ass, but it was better than nothing in this case.

He rounded the corner into an abandoned village, and this alley swallowed his footsteps as he moved further. The air smelled of ozone and rust; the skeletal remains of old machinery loomed around. Then he saw it. A jacket from Ryota. He was near. A lot of drops of blood to follow… The fabric had a lot of dried-up blood on it, too.

Tsukki’s breath hitched as he let his fingers go across the lining. The blood on the ground indicated he wasn’t doing too well. But to which side did he go? Now he regrets that he didn’t pay attention to tracking people. This old village held nothing. Why was he here? He took a side and ran. That was till he heard a wet cough echoing from somewhere. That cough was too familiar, too weak. Tsukki moved before he could think, the world narrowing to the sound of his friend suffering to even breathe.

He found Ryota lying down, collapsed down hidden between all kinds of rubble. His left arm twisted in an unnatural angle, band lood crusted at his temple. He still had a kunai seemingly broken off in his side. Blood was still oozing from a busted lip as a weak smirk appeared on Ryota’s face. “Took you long enough.” Tsukki could tear Ryota a new one right now, but he hugged Ryota a little, inhaling the scent of sweat, burned, and the iron. Ryota’s breathing hitched because of his broken rib with every single breath.

“Who…” Ittsuki gritted his teeth while asking that. His hands were already starting to assess the wounds. A cracked rib, dislocated shoulder, fingernails torn, defensive wounds, and a stab would still be oozing. Ryota shook his head. “Later… Tired..” Ryota sounded soft as Tsukki got alarmed. “No, no… You just shut up and live!”

The sound of Ryota’s labored breathing sent shivers down Tsukki’s spine, and he knew he had to act quickly to save his friend. He performed emergency first aid and used his medical jutsu skills to stabilize his condition. With great effort, he managed to carry Ryota back to the underground lab. Where he laid him on a makeshift bed. He was determined to save Ryota’s life.

Under the glare of surgical lights, Tsukki worked tirelessly. He realigned bones, sealed the ruptures as best as he could. Wiping away the grime to reveal the amount of bruises and broken bits. Ryota’s skin had become too pale, and veins started to stand out.


He was using every little bit of knowledge and resources. Tsukki worked tirelessly to heal Ryota’s wounds. He brewed powerful healing tonics and applied them to the injuries, using chakra from what he had. Every single bit of ounce of strength was used to save him. The sedatives finally took hold, Ryota’s muscles had started to relax, and his head had lolled to the side. Tsukki exhaled. Finally, he was stable enough to use his prototype healing tank. A medical device that could save his life… It accelerates the healing process of a patient. It was risky… the tank had only been tested on rats.

Slowly, Tsukki lowered Ryota into the liquid; he held his own breath. Praying for a miracle… Slowly, he started to see signs of improvement. Ryota’s breathing became steadier he slowly started to get color on his cheeks. Tsukki watched with a mix of relief and awe as the healing tank worked its magic, repairing Ryota’s body.

 

[Toraono Ryota]

watched over Ryota, who seemed to be asleep in the pod. The storm outside worsened, and the sand lashed against the reinforced windows. A counter from the quiet whirring of the equipment. Tsukki watched as the drops from the glass would slide down… And he did that till he saw the scarring now forming on Ryota’s side. Whoever did this… Would bleed, not tonight, but someday. Tsukki waited… The monitor was steadily beeping as it kept a check on Ryota’s vital signs.

After what seemed like an eternity, the healing tank finally completed its work… Tsukki carefully pulled Ryota out of the tank, his heart swelled with gratitude and relief. “Did he always dye his hair?” He asked out loud as he placed Ryota on the bed. Now that the body was healed, it was the mind that needed the time to wake up… and with that, Tsukki placed an IV into the arm.

It was dark everywhere for Ryota. He took a step, and it was still dark. “Oi oi..” He muttered as he started to run, a run with no end. At one point, he stopped and panted, getting frustrated… But that is when he saw a big cat glowing. It seemed to guide him to somewhere…. And he had not a single clue.
After following the cat for what felt like an eternity, it stopped in front of a disk-like object standing upright. Once Ryota got closer… He saw himself as if this were a mirror-like object. “So…? “ He spoke and started to reach out, but that was when the tail of the cat stopped him. “We may not have met yet… But you are of my bloodline.” It spoke, and Ryota felt even more puzzled.

“Descended from the celestial beast Byakko.”
“Ah! That curse!”
“WE ARE NOT A CURSE.” The being became a big, glowing white tiger in front of Ryota and pinned him down under its paws. It felt like he could barely breathe, gasping for air once the creature released him. “You need to wake up, see the world truly for yourself.” And with that, the creature pushed Ryota through the disk.

Ryota always had been the kid with the riot of red hair, like a rusted autumn flame. His eyes color of old golden coins… But this world he was in now, was something else. The change began not with pain, but with a profound, cellular awareness. It was a tingling that started in his spine. He watched as if a prisoner in his own skin… and the first strand of hair drifted past his eyes. It wasn’t red, it was colorless white… It was followed by another, another… until the vibrant copper cloud was gone, replaced by a whostly pale mane that floated around his head like a moonlit seaweed.

He tried to scream, but the sound instantly was muffled by this weird space, his hands pressed against nothingness and yet at the same time something firm… It was than that he saw his reflection again. The warm gold color was draining away, being replaced by a flat luminous grey. They were the eyes of a storm cloud, of mist over a grave… They didn’t held no warmth, no trace of the boy who loved the sunlight. They were the eyes fo something that saw in the dark.

A new sensation bloomed in his chest, cutting through the terror. It wasn’t human. It was a low, vibrating hum of pure power, a feral energy coiling where his fear had been. The ghostly eyes in the reflection narrowed. The cat-like claws flexed, scoring deep, white grooves into the unyielding glass.

*Screeeeeech.*

Ryota stopped fighting the cold. He embraced it. The white hair wasn’t a loss; it was a camouflage. The grey eyes weren’t empty; they were focused. The claws weren’t a deformity; they were keys.

He drew back his fist, the new muscles in his arm coiling with unfamiliar strength. The fluid around him swirled. The boy with the red hair was gone, dissolved in the nothingness. What remained in there was something else. Something awake. Something very, very angry.

The Byakko youngling of a celestial… He smiled and would slowly fade away; this chapter… was starting for this boy.

A soft groan left Ryota, his fingers twitched against the sheets… his brows furrowing as dreams, or rather nightmares, took hold. Tsukki reached out instinctively, smoothing the sweat-damp hair from his forehead… Ryota unknown leaned into the touch, even when unconsciously chasing the warmth.

A few hours later… Ryota watched the room through half opened eyes. “You think too loud…” His voice rasp as he murmured. He flexed his fingers and squeezed weakly. “Ask away…” Tsukki exhaled through his nose, he wanted to ask. He wanted to know who did this… But the eyes of Ryota already seemed to close…”No, you sleep…” He said as he would write down everything he had done, everything he knew about what happened.

Ryota was safe and sound… He dyed his hair with Tsukki not even a day after and had bought contacts to wear. Poking out an eye in the progress almost. He had tons of questions, maybe those he could ask his brother or maybe his old mentor… Gosh… Almost three weeks later, he finally entered his home again and started to life his life again.


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