Polarized Memories

“This place is…big.” Shackle stated, sitting on a chair, wiggling her feet back and forth. The entire interior was built out of sand, sculpted and smoothed out to be decorated. The walls perfectly smooth, designs carved into them, some telling the tales of the past of Suna, some simple depictions of great moments. The rest was as simple as any office could be,

A receptionist at the desk, long halls that lead to administrative rooms, one would assume this a simple building. If it weren’t for its obvious grandiosity and, if one were keen enough, the fact that it was laced with Chakra signatures, then you would never think the wiser as to the nature of what it was.

Shackle, right now, was sitting outside the office of the Kazekage, hands in her lap with a hint of nervousness plastered on her face. Hana had gone inside, telling her to wait here while she spoke. That however must’ve been nearly thirty minutes ago, no sound coming from outside. Shackle had got up occasionally, standing on shaky legs, and put her ear up to the door. Yet nothing ever emanated, just the whisper of the air through the halls.

She worried a bit. She had no relation or care for any of these people, after all she didn’t remember a single thing about her or her past, nor had she even been here that long. Yet, Miss Tanaka had been the first face she’d seen, the first face that had cared for her when she woke up. That bronze skin and ivory hair, that had been the first actual colours she’d seen in days.

She hoped, at least subtly, that whatever was happening in their was going well.

Shackle had resolved to at least spend time doing something else. She popped off the chair again, standing with her bare feet on the sand, as she walked up to the wall in front of her. She hadn’t been given a change of clothes since she’d woken up, still in what she was, yet she rubbed her hand as though the chains were still there. It was comforting in a strange sort of way.

The wall as she had notices was adorned with the past of Suna. Visions of battle, depictions of great builds. They existed on the long expanse of the wall as she walked down the hall, eyeing It the entire time. It couldn’t have taken long, carving into sand was nothing like carving into rock, yet even still they’d managed to make it look beautiful.

Then, at the end of it, she came to a halt.

Four Faces, each depicted in heroic poses. Her eyes widened in surprise, going forward and placing her hand on them. Despite the usual soft nature of sand, this was one hard as stone, whenever Shackle pushed on it with her hand she was met with strong resistance.

The first man didn’t look special, spiky hair protruding backwards with a determined gaze on his face. The second was much the same, a bald man with what seemed like some sort of tattoo over his eyes, with what seemed like the same gaze as the previous. The third, however, differed. Whereas the others had noticeable normal eyes, this one had dark sand where the whites of them would be. He had spiky hair, some of it protruding down the sides to give off the impression of what might be sideburns.

However, it was his face that gave her a pause. It was determined, much like the other two, but with something deeper laying behind. Anger, but calm. It is as though he has everything worked out behind his gaze yet he allows none of it to show. Shackle let her jaw drop a tad, placing a hand where his chin would be, pushing into it and feeling the resistance.

If anything, this place could certainly do art.

She dragged her hand along the portrait now, standing at the last. His face was-

“Ah, looking at the portrait of the Kazekages, are you?.”

Shackle hopped on her feet, jumping backward with her back landing against the portrait, turning around to see the familiar face of Hana. She held up a hand, smiling.

“Yo.” That was all she said, walking forward and pulling Shackle back, dusting her off.

How had she gotten behind her without making a single sound?.

“Jeez, y’know, you could’ve wated a bit longer. I was done and when I came out, you were nowhere to be seen. I thought you’d been kidnapped!.” Shackle couldn’t even respond, before Hana bonked her on the top of her head, Shackle placing her hands on it for comfort as sand fell out of it.

“Don’t do that again, got it?.”

It wasn’t like the girl was going to say no.

“I-I won’t, promise.” That was all that came out of the timid girl, as Hana sighed and nodded.

“Eh, I don’t blame you. It was meant to be something like a ten-minute chat, an inquiry, but Ol’ Rasa can talk your ear off and then some. Every time I mentioned you, he seemed to stop me with about five more questions. ‘What is her status?’ ‘What do you make of her?’ ‘Why are you dragging an eight-year-old around with you?’ Boring questions like that.”

“O-One of those seems impo-“

“That doesn’t matter! I managed to finally end it. I’m about to drop some real wisdom on you, so open your ears, ok?.”

Shackle nodded quicker than she thought anyone could, hands at her side almost on instinct.

“I talked to Rasa and I told him some…observations I made about you.” Hana explained, though it seemed as though she was peering deep into her eyes. Deep into her soul.

“Earlier when I mentioned the word Jonin, you seemed a bit confused. Uh, tell me…do you know much about the world of Ninja?.”

Shackle, at the question, seemed confused. Hana sighed again, nodding.

“I thought so. Ok, I’ll fire through a lightning round here. Y’see, Shackle…this world has some crazy stuff in it. You ever see someone throw a fireball bigger than a house? Well, I have, but I doubt you did. That’s possible cause we, uh…we got this thing called Chakra, right? It’s like a lifeforce in your body that…no, wait, it’s more like-“

Hana stumbled over herself for a few minutes. It was evident that despite her age and seeming proficiency, she was never caught out to be a teacher. It took her five minutes to ‘lightning round’ her explanation, constantly relying on analogies.

It was enough though. She’d explained what Ninja are, what Chakra is, the world, the village they were in, etc. She’d explained all of that. Shackle, somehow, managed to retain most of it. Despite the obvious complicated nature of it, it was easy to understand at least as basics.

Ninja exist, Chakra fuels Ninja, Ninja fight for a Village, Villages are made up of Lands, and a bunch of other things. Shackle, finally, had been explained as to what exactly ‘Suna’ was as well. That made her at least a bit more comfortable.

“Usually I don’t have to explain that, it’s uh, a lot more self evident for most kids. They’ve seen Ninja run about and even Civilians have a base level knowledge. It makes me wonder how the heck you know next to nothing- scratch that, literally nothing about Ninja.”

Hana stared at her again, almost accusatory, so Shackle just shrugged her shoulders nervously. That was all she could do after all.

“…It’s fine.” She said, waving the thought off. “I’m explaining this all to you for one reason. Shackle…I think you’re kind of, just a tiny bit…real fuckin’ scary. Pardon my language.”

It was at that statement that caused the young girl to revolt in confusion. Her? Scary?.

“W-What do you mean? I…I-I don’t think I look scary. I-I know you said I’m tall for my age, a-and obviously I haven’t cleaned up in a bit, but-“

Hana held a finger over her mouth, asking her to stop. Shackle obliged.

“No, I-it’s none of that. Despite your obvious growth spurt, you’re a cute kid. I wouldn’t be scared of you even if you came at me with a knife. I’m talking about your eyes.” Hana spoke, holding a finger to her own for emphasis.

“M-My eyes?” Shackle spoke, taking her hand and covering one of them. It only really occurred in that moment that she hadn’t ever seen herself in a mirror.

“Yeah…when I was doing my exam earlier, I grabbed your wrist. You didn’t like that, obvious why, that was my bad. Yet when you pulled away, and I looked at you…I looked straight into your eyes, and…I felt terrified. Horrified, even. It was like my heart was going to come right out of my chest.”

Hana placed a hand over her own breast, right where her heart would be, and breathed in.

“Now, I’ve seen some crazy stuff, done some crazy medical procedures. I’ve seen some crazy Genjutsu- I’ll explain that later don’t interrupt.” Hana held a finger up again, right as Shackle was about to speak.

“I’ve never felt like I did when I looked directly at you. That’s not even the scariest part…I don’t even think you were trying. It was a fear instinct, almost like muscle memory. If you wanted too, you could’ve had me on the floor, bawling my eyes out in seconds. That…is just something I, something that Suna, can’t really pass up. Shackle…”

Hana walked forward, hand on top of the girl’s head.

“In this world, some people are born with…extra abilities. Stuff they’re able to do, that no one else can do due to genetics. We call those things bloodlines, abilities passed down through generations. Suna has its share, but compared to others, we’re severely outnumbered and outmatched. Since you seem to not remember anything from your past, I made a deal with Ol’ Rasa.”

Hana smiled now, rubbing Shackles head.

“Shackle, I think you have a damn good bloodline, so I struck something. You can live here, in Suna, with me. I’ll take care of you till you recover all your memories. Until you do…you’ll be here, in Suna, training to become a damn good Ninja. Genjutsu types are a rarity here, and the fact you have the potential to shut down someone like me, someone who’s seen a whole bunch of stuff…I think that places whatever you have as something worthy of training.”

Hana seemed to strain at parts in that sentence, as though some of it was omitted, whatever she spoke of not being at the forefront. Yet it was heavy, Shackle could tell. It ached her to not say whatever it was.

Shackle didn’t care. She threw herself forward, hugging Hana and smiling. She had no clue why, she had only met Hana so recently. Yet, perhaps it was that very reason. She was alone in this village, nobody else to find nor know. Hana however had taken care of her, nursed her back to health. She called her scary yet still wanted to help her. That surely meant she was a good person, right?

“Y-Yes! I’d love to live with you, Miss Hana!” Shackle spoke, gripping her even tighter, a singular tear dripping down her face.

Hana could only chuckle, reaching round and patting her on the back.

“Ah, that’s good. I was sort of hoping you’d say yes, would’ve been weird for me to say all that just for you to leave…now, my place isn’t big, alright? I sort of never intended for anyone else to live there, so it really only has one bed.” Hana sighed, removing herself from the hug at the statement.

“I’ll sleep on the couch though, at least till I can get a second one put in. You need the comfort anyway, a lot more than me.”

Shackle snickered at that sentence, agreeing. Despite her long rest, her back still felt twisted into knots, her eyes still feeling heavy.

“I have to go get some things sorted out, ok? I won’t be around for a bit, but…” Hana reached into her pocket, before pulling out a stack of cash, smiling.

“Here, on the house. You need a whole new set of clothes, I’m not having you walk about in that thing. Usually we’d assign someone to watch over you, but we don’t have anyone on call at the moment, at least someone who isn’t a highly trained killer. You…think you’ll be fine if I give you a map?.”

Hana had never taken care of someone before, nor had she any idea of how. To her, while it was stupid to send an eight-year-old girl out on her own, she trusted Suna was safe enough that nothing would happen. Hana, of course, was stupid even to assume this.

Shackle, in her naivete, agreed.

“I-I should be ok. I’m…not really scared of anything bad happening.” Shackle said, innocent in every way.

Hana nodded, reaching into her pocket. She unfurled a map, grabbing a marker from her other pocket and circling two locations. The tower, where she was, and the closest clothing store. She drew a line through it, dictating the safest possible way to go. At least this way she’d be in less danger.

“Ok then.” Hana said, giving Shackle the map, before turning away. It was as though she was in urgent need of doing something, and only waved back a ‘Bye’, before stepping round a corner.

Shackle unfurled the map, reading over it. She had no way to estimate the time, nor any other way of knowing how safe this truly was. Yet, Miss Hana seemed to be genuinely caring for her safety. Shackle nodded, turning round and walking down a staircase, eventually reaching the outside as she walked past the receptionist desk.

The sun was burning now, burning on her pale skin, as Shackle winced. The burning sensation on her feet was much the same, the hot sand reminding her of the walk. Yet, she persevered. She must’ve developed at least some tolerance walking through the desert in the day and night for days, right?

Surely, she’d be fine.

════════════════════════════════════

The walk, so far, had been nice. The sun beaming down had become less oppressive, almost as if it cooled solely for her. Her feet were still uncomfortable, but she persevered through the belief that once she got to the clothing store, she’d no longer have to go barefoot. She could buy herself something, it might even look nice! She wondered if they kept her size, though…

She was tall for her age according to Hana, but she just had to believe that maybe, there were some other abnormalities like her that they’d have accounted for.

However, ignoring those thoughts, something else had been made clear. The way that had been drawn on the map was certainly the quickest, but…it took her through some strange places. Multiple alleyway shortcuts, places that just about managed to escape the sun, through some areas that made her think they weren’t as safe as she first assumed.

It could’ve all been in her head though, she knew that, but…

The way people stared at her, coming out of their homes as they seemed to irritated and angry, coming out of places that she knew looked smaller and more downtrodden than the ones from where she’d started her walk. Shackle could only wonder why this had been the path Hana had chosen. Wanting her back quickly made sense, but she’d been living here long enough to certainly be able to tell which neighbourhoods were the ‘bad’ ones.

Shackle negated the thought entirely, shaking her head as the stares only burned deeper. She’d known Hana for such a short time, she couldn’t say she was exactly trusting of her, especially after everything. Yet she wouldn’t send her into danger so willingly despite everything she’d said before, right? No, surely not. There surely must be a rea-

“Oooh, what we got here?.”

A deep, raspy voice, almost slurring and carrying the stench of drink from miles away. It was so early in the morning too, yet apparently, that didn’t stop some.

Shackle froze on the spot, feeling a rough hand grasp her shoulder, as panic set in. Shackle turned her head, looking up at the man, a disgusting grin plastered on his face. Drool was falling from the side of his lips, the clear sheen of sweat and stench emanating from him causing her to almost wretch. She couldn’t speak because of it, though perhaps the sheer terror she felt now was the real culprit.

“Never seen you before…oooooh, you a new one? Mhm, must be…” He said, squeezing her shoulder now as she winced.

“Yeah, you’re a pretty one…tall, too. I like ‘em tall…how old are ya, 18? 19? Ooh, it don’t matter.” Shackle began to sweat now, trying to open her mouth to speak, yet only a whimper escaping.

“Heh, don’t worry. You just…come with me, I’ll…I’ll take-“ He hiccupped now, Shackle staring at his free hand. A near empty bottle, and in one more gulp, he finished it before tossing it to the ground.

“Yeah, I’ll take good care. How ‘bout you-“Shackle could feel herself getting dragged away now, barely able to resist. His grip was vice like, yet she felt no pressure. Had she just been too scared to move? What would he do? Would anyone save her?

Anyone, anyone, anyone. Please, someone has too-

“ASSHOOOOOOOOOOOLE!”

“Huh-“

Shackle felt a resounding crash behind her, with his grip loosening instantly. Shackle instantly ran to rub her shoulder, breathing heavily to soothe herself. Turning her head to the side, she saw that where the man had been behind her, he was now far away from her now laying in a pile of broken wood, no doubt a collection of Barrels he’d been thrown into. That had managed to put him out like a light in no time at all.

She turned around, only to see her saviour. Shackle smiled instantly, going to thank her, only to cover her ears in the next few seconds.

“YOU THINK IT’S FUNNY TO GO AND HARASS WOMEN LIKE THAT!? HOW MANY TIMES I GOTTA KNOCK YOU DOWN BEFORE YOU FINALLY UP AND DIE, CREEP!”

The girl, wasting no time, turned on a dime. Shackle instantly realised their height difference, yet the girl took her hands from her ears, holding them in her own with a stalwart gaze directed at her.

Shackle began, thus, to realise her look.

She was much like Hana in a way, though Shackle chalked it down to a regional thing. She was a sun-kissed girl with a naturally tan complexion, her skin carrying a faint layer of fine desert dust. Her hair was a deep auburn, almost red in the sunlight, cut unevenly at her shoulders as if she did it herself in frustration. Her bangs are messy, with a few longer strands sticking out at odd angles, swept aside with a strip of cloth that was wrapped far too tightly.

Her eyes are an intense golden-brown, reminiscent of polished amber, with flecks of lighter gold that make them shimmer under the harsh desert sun. They seemed wide and full of energy, seemingly scanning her surroundings like she’s ready to dodge something or even someone. A few faint freckles dust the bridge of her nose, though Shackle could barely see them beneath a faint layer of dirt.

It then came back to height. She was noticeably shorter than herself, in fact, she was really only up to her elbow. She was leaner than the finest cut of meat, with a scrappy build. Feeling her hands locked in the others, Shackle could feel their calloused form, rough and dry from some form of exertion. It was obvious that she wasn’t one to care for Fashion either, bearing a sleeveless top in shades of faded red, with knee-length shorts and bandages wrapped around her calves and forearms.

Needless to say, she stood out and seemed far more lively than the girl who’d managed to spook even an adult.

“HE DIDN’T HURT YOU DID HE!? OH, IF HE HURT YOU, I’M GONNA DO IT! I’M GONNA KILL HIM FOR REAL THIS TIME!”

“N-No, he just…gave me a spook-“

“I SAW HIM! Hand on your shoulder, speaking all weird to you! He’s a weirdo among all us, nobody likes him! How he hasn’t been locked up is something I’ll never know!”

“A-Ah, please, if I can speak-“

“I mean, seriously! He’s spoke to every adult woman in this place, and they all hate him! He finds another and thinks, ‘Hey, this is my shot!’ Ugh, I don’t get it. I’ll never get men! I mean-“

Wait, adult?.

“O-Oh no, I-I’m not an, um, adult. You see-“ Yet, she spoke too softly for her.

“Men are awful! I mean, I guess people are awful actually. Nobody cares about us out here! That’s what makes me wonder why you’re even here. Oh, well, I guess you aren’t from here. You don’t look it. You on business? Tour? Family? C’mon, c’mon!”

Shackle, somehow, had managed to throw her hand out. She placed a hand over the other girls mouth, causing her to quite in almost an instant. Shackle breathed heavily, somehow standing after that onslaught of words. No, she wasn’t like Hana.

She was worse.

“Um, I…I think something got a bit lost in translation. I-I’m not an adult, I’m…I’m eight.”

Shackle immediately retracted her hand, wincing and preparing for another bombardment of sentences. However, her ears were met with silence. She’d closed her eyes in preparation, only to open them to the other girl staring at her, completely dumbfounded.

“Wow, you…are really tall.”

“…Mhm, I’ve…been told I’m tall for my age.”

“FOR YOUR AGE!? NO! IN GENERAL! WE ARE THE EXACT SAME AGE!”

Shackle blinked, once, then twice. She’d instantly turned to her side, as the other girl did the same. Shackle had actually overestimated slightly; the girl just about barely reached her elbows.

She’d instantly pulled back, tugging at her hair before groaning.

“UGHHHH! I knew I was short, but come on! This is totally unfair!”

She fell to her knees instantly, feigning a tear in defeat. Shackle, however, put a hand to her mouth to cover a chuckle.

…How long had it been since she’d laughed? It felt so foreign even still.             

Shackle reached a hand down, offering it to the dramatic girl now face-planted in the sand.

“Y-You alright?” she asked, the corners of her lips still tugged upward in amusement.

“Obviously not!” came the muffled voice. “I’ve been emotionally defeated. Crushed. Ground into the dirt—literally.” Despite the words, she took Shackle’s hand, letting herself be pulled up with exaggerated effort. Once standing again, she stared up at her. “Man, you’re like… a tree. Like one of those creepy trees in the desert that don’t fall over no matter how bad the storm gets.”

Shackle blinked. “Um… thank you?”

“It was a compliment!” the girl declared with a grin. “Anyway, I guess I should say thanks for letting me rant. Not everyone sticks around after that.” She gave a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m Rei, by the way. Rei Kurenami.”

Shackle hesitated, then nodded slightly. “Shackle.”

Rei tilted her head. “Just Shackle?”

Shackle nodded again, more slowly this time.

Rei’s mouth opened—then closed again. Something passed over her expression, maybe recognition of the weight that name carried, or maybe just instinct not to press. Instead, she threw her hands behind her head and whistled.

“Well, guess we’re both a little weird then,” Rei said, almost proudly. “Nice to meet ya, Shackle! You want me to show you the rest of the way? Or has that whole…” She waved her hand in a general direction as she paused. “Situation kind of ruined your day?”

Shackle looked down at the map still clutched in her hand. It was crinkled now, edges slightly smudged with sweat and grit. She pointed down the path Hana had circled.

“I… was going to buy clothes. Miss Hana gave me money and said the shop was this way.”

Rei raised an eyebrow. “Oh, that place. Bit pricey, but they’ve got nice stuff. Buuuut that means you still gotta pass through the rougher side. C’mon, I’ll go with you. Nobody around here’s dumb enough to mess with me twice.”

Shackle gave her a questioning look. “That guy earlier…”

“Okay, one person’s dumb enough,” Rei admitted with a groan. “But trust me, he won’t try anything again. Not unless he wants to spend a week picking splinters out of his butt.”

She grabbed Shackle by the wrist—not forcefully, more like an excited tug—and began walking.

Something about the touch didn’t make Shackle flinch this time.

════════════════════════════════════

They moved as a strange pair—Rei stomping ahead with the pride of someone used to walking the same streets a hundred times, and Shackle, silent and observant, letting herself be pulled gently along.

Rei never stopped talking.

“Okay, so listen, that place you’re headed? It’s run by this old person, yeah? She’s , like, ancient. And she yells. Constantly. But not in a mean way—it’s like... like she’s been doing it since the last war period and doesn’t know how to stop.”

Shackle gave a small nod, her expression neutral but her eyes watching every little movement around them—how the sun stretched shadows through alleyways, how the walls grew more cracked, more covered in odd graffiti and markings the closer they got. She kept a tight grip on the map, even if Rei had already tossed most of it aside in Favor of her own shortcuts.

“You’re really quiet, huh?” Rei suddenly asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Shackle blinked, startled by the break in rhythm. “I-I guess.”

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t wanna. But it’s weird, ‘cause you look like you should be super scary. Like a spooky ghost that follows you around and makes the temperature drop.”

“I-I’m not scary.”

“You are, though! I mean—kind of in a cool way. You’re like those statues in the middle of the desert. Y’know, the ones nobody knows who built, but everyone agrees are cursed?”

Shackle looked away, tugging her arm from Rei’s grip but staying beside her.

“I don’t… want to be cursed.”

Rei paused mid-step. “Oh. I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not cursed. I mean—you’re cool. Just kinda spooky. But like, in a good way?”

It wasn’t the cleanest save, but it made Shackle laugh under her breath.

════════════════════════════════════

The shop came into view not long after—a squat, wide building squished between taller sandstone walls, as though it had been carved into a space that never meant to hold it. A wooden sign above the door read Desert Threads, faded but intact.

Rei opened the door without knocking.

“HEY! I brought business!”

A shriek sounded from within. Shackle flinched.

“Kurenami, I told you not to yell when you come in here!” came the voice of an elderly woman, storming out from behind the counter like a sandstorm in a headscarf.

“Sorry, Granny Tomoe!” Rei shouted back, unbothered. “But I did bring a customer. Kind of.”

The woman’s gaze fell on Shackle then, scanning her up and down with a sharpness that reminded her of Hana, only… less patient.

“You look like you’ve been chewed up and spat out,” Tomoe muttered, crossing her arms. “Poor thing. You come from the orphan row?”

Rei leaned in. “She’s new. Real new. Apparently, doesn’t really even know Ninja words.’”

Tomoe let out a low whistle. “That is new.”

Shackle fidgeted with the edge of her gown, suddenly feeling very aware of how she looked.

“I-I have money,” she whispered.

Tomoe raised a brow, then softened slightly. “Good enough for me. Come, let’s get you sorted.”

════════════════════════════════════

Shackle stood in front of the mirror, her fingers brushing the fabric of the dress.

It was longer than anything she’d worn before — not floor-length, but enough to brush the tops of her new sandals and cling lightly to her knees when the breeze from the shop's open window slipped in. It was black, darker than obsidian, stitched with faint, barely-there patterns that shimmered when the light caught it right — not glitter, not thread, but something subtle. Almost like markings.

The sleeves flared at the wrists, not dramatically, but enough to shift when she moved. The collar sat high, just under her chin, and when she twirled once — just to see — it moved like shadow around her.

Rei stared.

“Okay,” she said, slowly, “that… is a little scary.”

Shackle tilted her head. “Do I look bad?”

“No,” Rei said, eyes wide. “You look like a ghost princess.”

“…Is that good?”

Rei gave a sharp nod. “It’s awesome.”

Tomoe said nothing, but the old woman’s mouth twitched at the corner — approval, in her own way.

Tomoe said nothing, but the old woman’s mouth twitched at the corner — approval, in her own way. She circled once around Shackle, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Bit dramatic, but it suits you,” she muttered. “You’ve got the right face for that kind of look. Hollow. Like someone carved you out of stone and forgot to put all the softness back in.”

Shackle blinked at her, unsure if that was a compliment.

Tomoe huffed. “That means it’s a good fit. Don’t just stand there looking like a tombstone — you want a sash with that? Maybe dark red? I’ve got a few scraps in the back.”

Rei leaned toward Shackle, whispering, “This is the most affection she’s shown since my tenth birthday when she didn’t hit me with a shoe.”

Tomoe shot a look over her shoulder. “I heard that, brat.”

“You were supposed to!”

Tomoe shook her head, muttering something about loudmouths and “damn kids,” but her hands were already rifling through a bin behind the counter, producing a deep crimson sash with faint gold threading. She tossed it at Shackle without ceremony.

“Here. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

Shackle stared at the cloth in her hands for a moment. Then, slowly, smiled.

“…Thank you.”

Tomoe waved her off like it was nothing, already turning away. “Just don’t die in that thing. Would be a shame to waste good fabric.”

“…I…I don’t intend to.” Shackle spoke, a tad confused at the statement by Tomoe. Was it common enough for her to mention?

Tomoe didn’t look back at her right away. She was folding cloth now, refolding really — neatly, precisely, like it was something to keep her hands busy while her mind wandered.

“Good,” she said finally, voice lower, quieter. “But nobody intends to.”

Rei fell silent at that. Her usual flood of words stalled, awkward now, like she wasn’t sure whether to stay or bolt.

Tomoe gave a long, tired sigh. “Suna’s not the worst place to grow up, but it ain’t the kindest either. Kids here grow up fast. Some… don’t grow up at all. Even if you do grow up, even if you end up with a quaint old life…” She paused at the end, sighing, before continuing.

“You still never know when it’s someone’s time.”

That was all she said. Not dramatic, not heavy-handed — just a statement. A fact, the kind that weighed more the longer it hung in the air.

She turned then, handing Shackle a small bundle — the folded gown and sandals she’d come in with, neatly wrapped.

“Keep those,” Tomoe said, giving a short nod to the new clothes. “You ever need them again, you’re probably in trouble.”

Shackle gripped the bundle a little tighter, unsure what emotion sat in her chest — respect? fear? a strange kind of comfort?

Tomoe had already moved back behind the counter, waving them off.

“Go on. You’re blocking the light.”

════════════════════════════════════

By the time they returned to the tower, the sun had begun to melt into the horizon. Shackle’s new outfit caught every amber ray, turning her silhouette into something ethereal. The long walk back felt shorter, safer, with Rei still chattering beside her — though slower now, as the day wore down.

“I gotta split off here,” Rei said as they reached the base of the tower. “If I don’t get home before dark, my aunt’s gonna skin me alive. You’ll be okay on your own from here, right?”

Shackle nodded, tugging at the sleeves of her dress. “Thank you… for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it. We’re friends now, yeah?” Rei said, rocking back on her heels like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Shackle looked at her, brow pinching. “We… are?”

Rei shrugged. “Sure. Why not? We talked, I saved you, you didn’t run away from me screaming — that’s, like, ninety percent of friendship already.”

“I’ve never had one,” Shackle mumbled.

Rei tilted her head. “A friend?”

Shackle nodded, though her memory was gone, the notion of a friend seemed foreign. This had to be her first, right?

There was a beat.

Then Rei scratched her cheek, looking away like she wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“…Well,” she muttered, “guess I’m your first, then. That’s cool. I’ve never been someone’s first friend before. Makes me sound important or something.”

Shackle stared at her again, like she wasn’t sure if Rei was being serious or just filling the air with noise. It could’ve been both.

Rei continued, half-talking to herself now, “Yeah, we’ll hang out, I’ll show you stuff, introduce you to people, keep weird guys from grabbing you again. You’ll probably hate half the stuff I say, but that’s fine. Most people do.”

“…I don’t hate it,” Shackle said quietly.

Rei blinked. “Wait—was that a compliment? Oh no. You do like me. It’s too late. You’re doomed.”

Shackle tried not to smile, but she failed. Just a little.

Rei didn’t call it out. She just grinned and pointed a thumb back the way she came.

“Alright, I gotta bounce before someone at home throws a sandal at me. But we’re hanging out again soon, got it?”

Shackle nodded.

“Cool.” Rei took a step, then looked back, walking backwards now with her arms folded behind her head. “Hey. Try not to look so lonely next time. Doesn’t suit the dress.”

Shackle stood there long after she left, watching the empty path with her arms tight against her chest.

She didn’t feel less alone.

But maybe… a little less hollow.

════════════════════════════════════

The sun had dipped low enough now that the heat finally broke, leaving only its glow scattered across the rooftops. Shackle pulled the shawl Tomoe had given her tighter over her shoulders, even if the air wasn’t cold. Just… empty.

The streets of Suna were calmer than earlier — the vendors packing up, the chatter more hushed, people walking quicker now. Less friendly. No one said anything to her, but she could feel the looks. Tall girl. Dressed in black. Unfamiliar.

She followed the lines Hana had drawn on the back of the map: past the stone lantern at the end of the street, turn left at the mural of the Kages, then right at the well. Down two flights of carved stairs. It was easier than she expected.

Hana’s apartment sat low in the village, partially built into the sandstone like so many homes were. Not wide. Just tall enough for two small floors and a rooftop garden she’d barely noticed the first time.

The door was plain. Wood, scraped and weathered, but still standing strong.

Shackle knocked once, out of habit, then tried the handle.

It opened easily.

Inside, it smelled like dried mint and clean cloth. Someone — probably Hana — had clearly swept while she was gone. The floor was smooth, the corners dust-free. A half-folded blanket sat on the couch. One cup rested in the sink, half-rinsed but forgotten.

It felt lived-in but not crowded. A home.

Shackle stepped in quietly, sandals pressing soft against the woven mat laid near the door. She glanced to the table — and there it was. A fresh note, ink still slightly damp at the corners.

“You look beautiful in black. Get some rest — I’ll be back soon.”
—H

Shackle stared at it for a long moment. She wasn’t used to people leaving notes. Or remembering what she was wearing.

Her fingers hovered over the page, then gently folded it closed.

She looked around. The place was dim, but not dark. A low lantern buzzed in the corner, its flame swaying like it was breathing. The bed sat against the far wall, tucked into a little nook beside a window that stared out across the quiet village. The sky had gone red now. Suna shimmered with its dying light.

She crossed the room slowly, lowering herself onto the edge of the mattress. The fabric of her dress settled around her like smoke.

Her muscles ached in places she hadn’t noticed earlier. Not painful, just… spent. The good kind of tired. Like something in her had finally run out of steam.

Her eyes flicked toward the window again, watching the rooftops.

She wondered where Hana had gone.

She wondered if this kind of quiet meant safety… or waiting.

She leaned back, letting the bed take her weight. It was more comfortable than the hospital bed — or maybe her body was just less broken this time.

The fabric of the new dress made the sheets whisper beneath her, barely a sound. She curled onto her side, pulling the blanket over her slowly, as though waiting for something to stop her.

Nothing did.

Her fingers found the edge of the crimson sash still tied around her waist. She didn’t untie it. Not yet. It felt like something she’d earned.

Her eyes lingered on the ceiling, blinking slowly as the last light from the window dimmed. The sky outside had turned to ink.

The quilt wrapped around her.

She was warm. Safe.

She didn’t believe it yet.

But for the first time in days — maybe longer — her body stopped bracing for impact.

Her breath slowed.

Her eyes shut.

Sleep came fast.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, the chains began to rattle again.

════════════════════════════════════

Elsewhere.

Far beneath stone and sun, behind a door sealed with chakra and time, a chamber stirred awake.

The room was nearly empty — save for the seal circle carved into the stone, glowing faintly red. Not bright. Not warm. Just alive. Like something sleeping with its eyes open.

A figure stepped into the ring, their face unseen beneath a veil of shadow. The only details visible were sand-scuffed boots, a long coat dusted with desert powder, and fingers that moved with practiced precision.

They knelt.

Rolled open a scroll that hissed with smoke as it unfurled.

Their hand hovered above the parchment — just long enough to feel the resistance, the low buzz of chakra responding in kind. Then they pressed down, and the ink rippled as if woken from deep water.

The first message burned upward from the surface.

[SUNA: CODE BLACK — SUBJECT LOCATED]

A pause. The seal pulsed.

Then came the reply.

[CONFIRMATION REQUESTED: BLOODLINE POTENTIAL?]

The figure leaned closer. Their voice was quiet, but clear.

“Visual-based. Genjutsu suspected. Control—unstable. Memory fractured. Host unaware.”

Another moment passed.

Then a third message rose slowly from the scroll, the ink dark as blood in water.

[MAINTAIN SURVEILLANCE. DO NOT ENGAGE.]
[WE WILL COME.]

The seal dimmed.

The figure stood, silent. Motionless.

Then turned and disappeared into the dark.