The Turning of the Screw [Flasback, Kutari]

All was quiet.

The desert sun sat with a subtle finality unique to the city of Sunagakure, silent wisps of cold air dusting over the dunes and sending whirls of sand into the air. In the fading vestiges of daylight, the vast landscape appeared as a dusty auburn- a brownish red that could’ve been interpreted to be the color of rust or dried blood. Flocks of vultures made their way across the rapidly darkening sky. They had likely been attracted by the fields of corpses which surrounded the somewhat recently conquered Hidden Village. She looked out the window of the small apartment she was staying in, seeing one such bird on her windowsill. It stared her down with black, beady eyes, letting loose a shuddering cry that seemed to rattle in her bones before taking off with a rush of air.

Her apartment had belonged to a late genin who had died trying and failing to protect his village. From what she had recovered from the rooms, she was able to piece a shaky picture together of what he might have been like. He had a younger sister. He lacked the paranoia typical of more experienced ninja, as evidenced by the lack of traps. He had a doting old lady down the street who took care of him, and often fed him home cooked meals when he returned from missions. Above all, he was very kind- yet it hadn’t saved him from his fate. Her bare feet rubbed roughly against the carpeted floor. It had clearly been designed so each step made noise, likely to accommodate older ninja who hated being sneaked up on. She had managed to reduce her noise quite a bit on them, but not entirely. She slid out of her sweaty training clothes and put on a pair of black leggings, a red tank top, and a brown jacket that was less intended to retain heat and more designed to block the wind. After a moment or two of consideration, she put on some black ninja sandals as well. She took in a deep, weary breath. The past few days her sleep had been restless, plagued with odd dreams that left vague impressions into her waking hours. She couldn’t tell if it was due to an unfamiliar environment, a new diet, or simply exposure to events that most people would consider traumatizing. Either way, it had left the young girl with darkened bags under her eyes that would likely be obvious to anyone who had met her.

After letting out the air back through her nose, she opened the deliberately creaky door and slid it shut with a soft click. She had intended to check out Sunagakure’s shinobi archives today. In truth, she was hoping to learn some medical ninjutsu to widen her arsenal, or perhaps some Hidden Sand exclusive secrets that would give her an upper edge when it came to combat. She knew she wasn’t the most experienced. Yes, to a civilian, she acknowledged she was likely terrifying. But to any mildly competent shinobi Amaterasu figured she was far less of a threat. She needed to fix that if she intended to survive with the Ragdoll, and she couldn’t necessarily afford to lean on the older man for everything she needed. Some things, she learned, were better accomplished by one’s self than with the assistance of others. She ambled down the flight of stairs, eyes wide open to alert her of any potential threats in the still unfamiliar area. When she stepped down to the ground, her feet made little clicks against the limestone floor. A few grains of sand found their way between her toes, which she wiggled uncomfortably. She had grown up in a largely tropical, humid climate, completely unfamiliar from the arid dryness of the desert. It was unusual not to have to put herself to sleep to the sound of thunderous rain or patch together her old home yet again from another mild earthquake. Volcano country was chaotic, yes, but it was where she grew up, and she kept within her mind a peculiar fondness for all of its oddities and quirks.

After a few minutes, she found herself in front of a large, sandstone building that towered next to the kage tower. Of course, with nobody to guard it, its contents were open to everyone. Though, with the recent events, it was unlikely that too many people were willing to exit the relative sanctuary of the indoors. She pushed open a massive door, made of an unknown wood- perhaps a Senju or someone with Wood Release had lived here at some point?... Or, of course, they imported the wood from elsewhere. The smell of old paper assuaged her nostrils, and she found herself in a large, open room, stacked top to bottom with cluttered bookshelves. A few books, she noted, were scattered haphazardly on various tables, as if abandoned hastily by their readers. A desk near the front doors sat to her left, but it had remained quiet and unoccupied. There were bigger priorities, she supposed, than guarding what was supposedly a shinobi library when the life of the village was on the line. She found herself drawn to the many bookshelves, browsing various titles, tomes, and scrolls before pulling out a few that interested her. They were all on varying topics. She vaguely recalled one on poisons, one on basic modern medicine, one on the basics of elemental natures- she figured the last one would be largely useless, given her disability, but perhaps she could learn better on how to combat opposing natures in the meantime. There were a few other items piled on top of that, but nothing too outlandish or useless. Finally, she made her way to the corner of the area visible to her- most ninja, she figured, gravitated towards those areas as well to keep their backs covered as well as keep an eye on the surrounding area more efficiently. Amaterasu supposed that she was no different in that regard. After an awkward moment of adjusting her seat to be closer to the table due to her height, she cracked open the first text and began to read.


[WC: 1,034]
[Total WC: 1,034]

(Exit.)
(Claiming: 1,034 words.)
+5 stats
+1,034 words towards http://naruto-role-play-rpg.forumotion.com/t42710p10-burst-fission#339524

Approved