Open White Walls and Silent Screams

[Ryuu Nozomi]

The rain hadn’t stopped for three days and instructors were struggling to maintain order of the classrooms without the ability to go outside and allow the children to blow off steam. So, when her instructor had offered the class to deliver a small scroll satchel which had been sealed and marked, naturally everyone wished for the job. It turned into a game, and Nozomi was the victor.

She would deftly maneuver through the soaked asphalt streets as the sewers did their job in draining excess water. Eventually, she found the Headquarters she was meant to locate buried beneath layers of stone and silence. The damp cloth clung to her form as the chill of this place settled on her shoulders, running down her spine. The delivery itself was simple enough, but she dreaded the thought of returning to the loud classroom. Instead of leaving immediately, Nozomi had decided to wander. Down one hallway, then another, until she reached a narrow unguarded corridor that ended with a door that was open slightly. It had a black marked etched above it with an eye and inside was a viewing chamber.

The temperature was moderate within this place, but the rooms here had an unsettling icy sensation which crept down the spine and coiled around the ribs. The Interrogation Wing was buried far beneath the bustling streets, and even deeper still than even the holding cells of Tarterian Specus.

She did not have access to be this far inside, she was just an eleven-year-old academy student, barely tall enough to look over the mission desk. Yet, she opened the door to a dark room lit only by the dull glow of the glass that split this room from the one directly opposite to it. She would take slow steps toward the one-way mirror which took up the entire far wall. Beyond it shows a scene that appears to be a different world. Stone walls are stained by years of use with shackles bolted into the floor. A man sits in a metallic chair slick with sweat. He is bruised and trembling.

Three others stand around him in animal masks, she knows these to be ANBU operatives, and only one spoke. The voice was that of a female; calm, sharp, and threatening. It was not cruel and yet it carried a tone that made even Nozomi’s skin crawl. The woman, whoever she was, was very practiced in this art. Lost in the moment, she knew she was not meant to stay, and yet she could not leave. Her heart did not race, and her breath did not quicken. It was not fear that engulfed her, but intrigue.

As if she were still in the classroom, Nozomi was truly engaged. She watched and studied the motions of not only the one taking the lead but the others in tow as well. The slow escalation of pressure along with the precise cadence of the memorized questions. Pain wasn’t just delivered without purpose. It was precise, deliberate, and curated. As if there was meant to be a rhythm or choreography to the thing, and that each cry or gasp had been rehearsed thousands of times over. Eventually, the prisoner broke, and the silence that followed felt like the woman was scrawling her autograph across a painting.

Nozomi’s voice was only audible on this side of the mirror,

“Finished. Just… wonderful.”

The door opens behind her, quiet as breath, and the release of the knob causing it to ‘Click’ is what alerted Nozomi to a presence behind her. The voice was firm, but warm.

“Nozomi? Ryuu Nozomi?” It was a question, and the young girl would turn and nod.

An older woman in an all-black Anbu coat and a fish mask stood at the entrance. She had tightly braided dark hair which seemed to be pinned to her clothing so that it did not sway when she moved. The eyes from beneath the mask were distinct looking, but they did not carry any hints of threat or even comfort.

“You’re not allowed to be here.” The voice would state in a matter-of-fact tone.

Nozomi nodded as if she understood, but when she should have simply been ushered away, another question followed.

“You watched the whole thing?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”

Nozomi bit her lip and thought for a moment. Instinct was telling her to lie because she could not form a good reason within the truth. Yet, she tried her best,

“It was art. Expression so pure it could be felt without words. It was… application of imagination through experience and skill.”

The woman did not respond immediately, instead walking past to view the empty interrogation cell. The man had since been taken away.

“Most students would have cried or ran. I’ve even seen those who are much older not able to hold the contents of their stomach. You… didn’t even flinch. More importantly, what did you learn?”

“Pain unravels the puzzle so that the scene can be painted as it occurred.”

The woman would nod, and there would likely be a smile beneath her mask, but Nozomi could not see it. She would move towards the door and hold it open for the student, hinting that it was time to leave this place. Leaving, she would return to class, but nothing else truly felt real that day.

Her dreams that evening had shape and texture. She was back within the walls of the interrogation room and the place which had felt so eerily silent the day before was now filled with a constant ringing. The sound made it difficult to concentrate on her thoughts and the details of the place, but she dreamt of it, nonetheless.

She could still hear the cracking breath of the prisoner, and the tremble in his voice as he gave up the truth. As if someone had drunk too much and could not contain the sick any longer. The memory played in her dreams like a song on repeat that does not leave your mind for the entire day.

Nozomi woke with sweat upon her brow and the sheets soaked from sweat as if she was a child who had an accident. The first thing was to shower and prepare herself, but she did not go to class this morning. Instead, she would walk the rainy streets and find her way to where she had initially dropped off the package. Even without a reason for being here no-one questioned her existence and so she would drift without drawing attention. She had learned how to stay in place long enough to be forgotten in a room full of movement, and when to carefully plot her own course.

She followed the same course she had plotted the day prior, down one hallway, then another, and the next. Eventually she would stumble upon the door with an eye upon it, but this time it was closed. Walking up to it, she assumed it would be unlocked and simply tried to enter as she did the day prior.

Unlike the day before, the door was locked and turning the handle would alert whoever was inside. Panic and fear began to course through her body as she stared at the handle knowing whoever was inside would catch her momentarily…


WC: 1210 - Marked for Training

 

[Chigokai Yuna]

Yuna had her eyes and ears close to the ground for a while. It was merely a test to see which of Kumogakure's newest and upcoming ninjas would take on the hardships of an Anbu ninja. It was as much of a set up as it was to test her own Anbu agents alertness. Taking into an abandoned part of the compound that would serve with little security. She of course knew this, but it is imperative that her own agents learn to also think for themselves and bring up issues and not wait for them to be magically fixed or ordered around. She sighed, seems like yet another thing her predecessor had left for her to do. Well, at least with this method, Yuna will kill two birds with one stone.

Soon Yuna had gotten word from one of her agents whom caught an academy student venturing too close to the compound, and she caught the name. Ryuu Nozomi. Huh... It seems like Yuna can't just get a break from the Ryuu clan either. It all started with their clan leader, thinking that she would end up the same as her predecessor. They had a talk, Sennin to Sennin, and buried the hatchet, metaphorically speaking. The next Ryuu that she had a run in was the actual boogeyman of the clan, whom tried to steal Cloud tech. She had fought him when some outer being threatened his life, so he chose being at her mercy than some time goddess. And now comes today.

Ryuu Nozomi... hmm... Yuna tapped her fingers on her desk deep within the compound. First, she would have to deal with the laxness that some of her agents seem to have in certain areas, and then she'll see about Nozomi. She had a meeting with most of the Anbu present, in which she announced that they are now rolling into a six-day work week instead of all Anbu instead of five until all security measures and discrepancies are found and solved.

She figured, given the interaction that the young girl had with one of her Anbu, that the girl might try and visit the place once more. Sensors were put in where the girl had supposedly entered and would alert the compound with a silent alarm, a blinking red light that was deeper inside the compound. Of course, Yuna would be the first one on scene, when she activated her chimera abilities and used the teleportation abilities that comes with the Seikon bloodline.

The Anbu Sennin would silently and suddenly appear behind the young girl. She wore her usual Anbu garb. Black cloak with hood, and a plain white mask with no notable features. She had done this to make sure that no outside parties would be able to tell that she is the Sennin. Her mask was specially made to also hide her long flowing purple locks, a very big identifier since she is sure that she is the only person in Cloud with purple hair. She would match the girl's steps, but make no noise until they ended up at the door where the girl tried to open the door, which her agents had already locked.

She listened to the young girl's blood flow, and whilst she was never as good as her father was at discerning how exactly a person is feeling just by listening to their blood flow, she did note that the girl's blood flowed faster, assuming from having adrenaline now moving through her body. She would politely clear her throat, wait a second after, and then speak. "tell me, what do you seek beyond that door?"

 

[Ryuu Nozomi]

Nozomi’s fingers lingered on the handle a second too long. Long enough for her stomach to twist and long enough for a cold truth to settle in, she wasn’t alone. A shift in air pressure and that sense of being watched. She felt it in her spine first, the kind of uncertainty where the hairs on the back of your neck stand. A wordless thing, like a shadow sliding into her periphery just before the lightning flash. Then came the sound.

Not a cough or someone clearing their throat. It was words which were spoken soft and precise which caused Nozomi to turn her head. The figure behind her had not been there a heartbeat ago, of that she was certain. Clad in black with a white, featureless mask, they stood with a stillness so complete that the hallway itself seemed to hush in reverence. There was no visible movement, no flicker of breath, no sign of weapons drawn and yet, the air around them felt heavy, like a storm cloud waiting for a reason to strike with deadly force. Her breath caught and she didn't move at all.

“Tell me, what do you seek beyond that door?”

Nozomi opened her mouth, closed it, and felt her thoughts stumble. She had no prepared excuse, and nothing that came to her felt sharp enough to survive in this space. She turned fully now, facing the masked figure with her chin slightly raised. Not an act of defiance, but so that they wouldn’t mistake her for a coward. Nonetheless, as her wet hair clung to her face, she suddenly felt far younger than eleven.

“I…” she began, but the word hung there, dry and incomplete.

She swallowed hard, “I saw something yesterday,” she managed finally.

“And I wanted to understand it better.” Her voice didn’t tremble, but it wasn’t proud either. It came out level, the way she’d practiced in front of a mirror when trying to sound like a grown-up. Yet still, the masked figure did not speak. Nozomi’s gaze flicked down for only a moment, but she kept talking, hoping the rest of her words would sort themselves into something that sounded acceptable to the masked figure.

“I was sent here on an errand yesterday, to deliver a scroll packet. I was curious and found myself down hallways like this one that I’ve never seen before. The door was open, and I just walked in. I saw the mirror, the room behind it, and everything that happened inside.”

Still no response, no shifting of weight, just a silhouette carved into the dim corridor. Nozomi continued, voice soft but steady.

“I know I shouldn’t have been here. Someone came after and told me so. Yet, I had to come back. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I saw. The meticulous way the woman spoke and how she forced a surrender of the truth. I thought maybe if I saw it again that I could understand why it felt the way that it did.”

She let her breath go, feeling it burst forth from her chest like the last note of a song. She wasn’t sure if anything she said made sense aloud. In truth, she didn’t expect forgiveness or understanding. It certainly would not be the first time that Nozomi was misunderstood, and the trial of walking alone once again sprung into her mind. The figure remained still with no acknowledgment, correction, or reaction that she would be capable of reading through the white mask. Yet, the air still felt charged, and Nozomi didn’t know what would happen next. She hadn’t planned for being caught and she hadn’t expected the door to be locked. She had come here guided only by impulse and curiosity, feelings that she would discern now as dangerous twins. The silence was beginning to feel like a second presence in the hallway, as if it was breathing beside them.

“I can just… leave.” Nozomi said quietly.

The words dropped like a stone into a still pond. She turned slowly but not fully, just enough to gesture compliance. A small tilt of the shoulders and a shift of posture. Not submission but certainly awaiting permission.

Then… she would imagine herself moving. The first step echoing louder than it should. Her footsteps threading carefully down the corridor. One after the other in measured yet hollow rhythm. She imagined the distant buzz of the flickering lights above, the smell of old concrete and wet dust seeping in through cracks she hadn’t noticed before. She imagined reaching the corridor’s end, the junction that led back toward the world she was supposed to live in. The world of paper tests, chalkboard lectures, and noisy lunch breaks with classmates who would never understand the things she had seen. She could feel the pressure in her chest tightening with every imaginary step away. Not fear or regret. Just a slow unraveling emptiness as she imagined stopping. It became hard to breathe as if she were underwater and she realized if she walked away, she would be turning away from a thing that stirred desire. She could see herself back in class, sitting at her desk with perfect posture and a sharpened pencil. Nodding at her instructors while turning pages and answering questions. Yet, a realization dawned upon her where that world would no longer feel real anymore. The words would slide past her like fog over glass. The motions would be empty and praise meaningless. A dull clapping for a play she no longer believed in.

Nozomi’s throat tightened. She felt the phantom weight of that decision like it had already happened, like it had already cost her something unnamed and irretrievable. It’s in this moment Nozomi snaps back into reality and realizes she’s still standing before the faceless Anbu. That the last words that left her lips were not in a distant past but just a few moments prior and she looked up awaiting a response. Hopefully a response would be given before she walked away from this world and the emptiness of her daydream became a reality.