The first sign of trouble appeared in a flicker of motion so fast it hardly registered on the prison surveillance. One moment, the corridors of the ANBU complex were still, lit by the sterile glow of overhead lamps; the next, arcs of electricity danced along the walls, followed by the swift whoosh of air displacement. Guards stationed at critical intersections snapped to attention. They brandished weapons and readied ninjutsu, but the intruder seemed to slip out of view faster than they could blink. Only faint afterimages appeared. Shadows out of place, echoes of footsteps striking the tiled floor an instant before fading away. For a heartbeat, someone glimpsed a white-haired figure with eyes the color of lightning, but by the time they drew breath to raise the alarm, he was gone again, leaving a crackle of static in his wake.
Shirokouu felt his pulse thunder in his ears as he darted past the lines of ANBU. He did not want to fight. He had no time for that. Though the prison’s layout was a fortress of labyrinthine halls, he navigated it as though he had lived here all his life. His body was a blur, electricity sparking at his fingertips, the world around him slowing to a crawl. Figures in various masks appeared startled, hardly able to turn their heads before he was already behind them, weaving through every obstacle as if dancing. In that moment, Shiro understood he had surpassed his previous limits of speed. Even the famed Santaru Inazuma no Ken, known for their blistering attacks, would have paused in awe at the raw velocity he now commanded. But he knew this was more than reflexes or training. He was moving through time, or around it, at least in the smallest sense. Every motion felt guided by fleeting glimpses, a knowledge of exactly where each guard would be, of where every barrier and locked gate lay waiting. This was the power he had glimpsed in the splintered timeline. He remembered it now, and he used it to its fullest.
He recalled the fleeting images that had led him here, recollections of another life in which this day played out almost identically. He knew that once he passed the second checkpoint, there would be a moment, a slim window of opportunity, where no one would bar his path. It had been that way in the memory, and he prayed it would hold true now. Shiro was certain that if the timeline diverged too sharply, the chain of events leading him to the Ryuu's salvation, as well as his own, could collapse. He rounded a corner, nearly colliding with two ANBU in pale masks, but his senses blared a warning an instant before it happened. He twisted his body, lightning-charged and time-twisted chakra crackling across his shoulders, and vanished from their line of sight. The guards tensed, scanning the corridor in stunned confusion. Shiro landed lightly behind them, not even stirring the dust on the floor, and continued on. He didn’t want to harm them. He just needed to reach Tama and the others before anyone tried to relocate him or cut him off.
It felt like an age had passed since he first arrived in the Land of Lightning chasing rumors of a missing Ryuu. He'd spent years and decades, far more if you include all that was lost. He was older, at least inside himself. Yet, it had only been mere minutes in reality since the elders gave him audience, mere minutes since he’d awakened to the knowledge of a life he had never truly lived. In that life, he had seen Tama mainly from afar, a looming figure with golden hair and uncertain loyalties. He had recognized how the clan gave the giant a wide berth, speaking of him in tones that suggested both wariness and grudging respect. They had reasoned it was best to keep distance, for the man was said to have known how to cure their affliction all along, and for reasons still unknown to Shiro, he had never shared it. There was bitterness in that memory, one that made Shirokouu’s jaw clench and teeth grit. Now, as he raced down a corridor lined with reinforced doors, he found that memory mingling with other impressions, other memories: Tama had also once tried to bridge a gap between worlds, to bring those at odds closer together. He remembered how it felt admirable. Shiro felt himself torn by the knowledge that the man was a paradox. Dangerous, but essential. After all, if the giant held the key to curing the Ryuu clan’s Madness, he was vital to saving Rei.
He reached a sealed door, the largest in this section of the facility, emblazoned with the symbols of high-security containment. Once, he would have paused to figure out a method to bypass it. Now, he simply placed a palm upon it, focusing his storm-born chakra, remembering. The door’s locking mechanism clicked. A swirl of sparks danced along the metal, short-circuiting the latch. Shiro eased the door open, slipping inside, ignoring the startled shout of two ANBU behind him. They sprinted forward, but too late: he was through. From there, it took only seconds to arrive at the vantage point overlooking the chamber where Tama was being held. The large one-way window separated him from the giant and the small group in the room: Raikage Kitsune, ANBU Sennin Yuna, and another masked figure Shiro didn’t recognize.
He steadied his breathing, adrenaline surging, and forced himself to be calm. Yes, he remembered Yuna, the stoic shinobi he’d encountered in the mountains just days prior. She’d been so guarded, hesitant to converse or give him answers until he mentioned that he was looking for Rei. They had parted on unspoken terms, each weighed by their own reasons for chasing those similar past ghosts. And there was Kitsune, standing tall in a black suit, her hair as crimson as he remembered, but with newly pointed ears and that second luminous eye. Shiro recalled the day he had blinked into her office nearly three years ago, only to find both the Raikage and Rei staring in astonishment. Now, she looked almost the same, apart from those small but significant changes. He had never shared a deep bond with her, nothing like what he now felt toward the one he'd experienced a lifetime with, but he respected her authority and the careful empathy she had shown him when time had swallowed him up and spat him out again. He had always addressed her with the same formality, though less out of intimidation and more out of genuine respect.
With barely a whisper, he leapt down into the interrogation room’s entrance. He moved so quickly that none of the guard had time to intercept him or sound an alarm. Lightning flickered around his ankles as he landed, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in the chamber. Shiro’s heart pounded, but he pressed a hand lightly to his chest, taking a steadying breath. “Raikage,” he greeted, his voice taut, but a familiarity in his cadence that wasn't present the last time she'd seen the stormcaller. “It’s been some time.” He inclined his head, recalling how, in a lifetime he’d half-imagined, he had worked for the woman, for the village. “It’s an honor to see you again. My apologies for yet another intrusion. It's becoming habit.”
His eyes then passed over to the head of the ANBU Branch. The last time they had spoken, they'd been in a fractured ruin of a mountainous region, a tense but not unkind exchange, both of them there for echoes of the past. Now, the tension felt minimal, the distance closer, at least to Shiro. “I found what I was searching for,” he said, a straightforward nod to their prior rendezvous. “I went to the Ryuu clan, as I said I would. What I learned was... more than I bargained for, but... I have answers.” His gaze flicked to the battered form of Tama. A swirl of conflicting emotions churned in his chest. He remembered hearing the clan’s stories, how the man had withheld the cure for their Madness, how it might have been done out of arrogance or a twisted sense of pride. Yet he was also the only one who carried that solution in his blood.
Shiro’s tone darkened. “We don’t have a lot of time.” He sensed how ironic that statement sounded, especially coming from him of all people. Still, it was true. Everything depended on precise circumstances. “I know my presence was requested here. I couldn't wait for an envoy,” he said, addressing both Yuna and Kitsune. “Sorry for my abrupt entrance, but I couldn’t risk the chance of being delayed. I know where Rei is. I can reach her… but if I-" He paused, choking out the doubt and correcting himself. "When I bring her back, I need Tama alive. Otherwise none of it will matter.” He pointed at the chained giant. “He’s the only one who can cure her, cure the entire clan,” he added, his voice pitched low. “If he’s removed from the picture, any hope of pulling Rei back from the brink goes with him.” He paused, letting that sink in, then continued. “When I return, I will have her with me. By then, hopefully everything will be ready. But it won’t matter if Tama is dead or detained in a way that crushes him beyond recovery.”
A charged silence settled over the room. He wondered how they'd respond, likely all of them uncertain whether to accept the Time Walker's words without proof. Yet Shiro pressed on. “There’s something else. Raikage,” he said, turning to face her fully. “Rei. She’s... different now. That, I can do something about. But when I do, the Lycan in her will return too.” His eyes flicked toward Yuna, recalling how she had questioned him about Rei’s whereabouts. He took a slow breath. “I can get her here, but I need you to find a solution for her condition. She won’t survive intact otherwise.” He knew it was a lot to ask for in so little time, but he trusted Kitsune’s renown as a medical savant and genius innovator. If anyone could figure out a cure or a treatment plan, it was her. “You’re one of the best medics in the world. If it's possible, I'm certain you're the one who can make it happen.”
He could feel the tension coiling, the swirl of questions that threatened to surge forward. “I’m sorry I can’t elaborate,” he murmured, voice strained. “But we’re on the clock. Keep Tama alive, hold him, talk to him, do what you need… just make sure he’s still here when I get back with Rei.” That, he knew, was paramount. “And please… prepare whatever you can for her.” His final request was a short one, but important to Shiro. He hoped the brevity would be forgiven. He believed they all wanted the same outcome: Rei saved, the threat to Kumogakure handled, and the clan’s longstanding curse ended. Shiro’s eyes glowed faintly, electricity sparking along his arm. He had nothing else to say. He couldn't afford to wait around. So he took a tentative step backward. Then, as quickly as he came, the Time Walker vanished in an almost imperceptible blur, leaving only a crackle of static in the air. He blurred through the chamber entrance, speeding away with the same impossibly swift movement that had carried him here.
In the tiniest splinter of a second, he was gone, the faint smell of ozone and the expressions of those left behind being the only sign he had been in the room at all. He felt a pang of regret for how abrupt he had been, especially amongst friends that old, but there would be time for explanations later. If the memory of that other life proved true, the path to Rei demanded absolute precision. One misstep and everything he had gleaned from that impossible lifetime could unravel. As he tore through the corridors again, weaving between ANBU agents who barely caught a glimpse of white hair and flaring chakra, Shirokouu steeled himself. He knew exactly where he had to go. He knew exactly how this had to happen. And most of all, he knew, with the clarity of a promise forged in another existence, that he would not fail. He couldn't.
[Topic Entered and Left Unless Stopped]
[MFT .:. 2066 Words]
