Seven Bells Saga
The Long Road Arc
Act Two: Psalms of Oomi.
Scene One: The Boy who cried; “Enemy!”

Oomi wrapped her arms about her body as a strong chill overcame her frame – the result of the breeze that had dared pass between buildings and trees in search of the girls bare flesh. Admittedly, the shiver was more a conditioned response than a result of the actual sensation of cold air. One might have, for that moment, thought the girl had regained the natural abilities contained in all human flesh. They’d have been mistaken, despite her well done acting job. Even she couldn’t help but to giggle gently at the thought. She’d not truly felt the breeze, more so had it been heard as it whistled through the corridors of the city some short distance from its outskirts. The noise alone was enough to prompt her response, in truth. But, why? What reason did she have to pretend that she could feel the chill in the air? Arms fell to her sides once more, bare as always. The fingers of which tensed and relaxed repeatedly before they found the trim of the oversized garment she was wearing. The thing was pulled up slightly, and held within her grasp. She’d made the decision yesterday that she’d never again leave the house without her gift from Wolfgang, a large black cloak which hung down to just above her knees. The thing was sleeveless, yet its size and the cape which it bore on the back often caused it to cover her arms from time to time though not much, or enough to matter during a fight when the garment would be its most useful. Not that she actually realized the capabilities of the garment, it just seemed to be a good luck charm.

The question had not been forgotten… why pretend? Eyes darted about as if they might find the answer in some outside source, as if it dwelt anywhere but within her own psyche. Perhaps it was that she feared what else might dwell deep within those dark recesses as well. In the places she dared not venture even within herself. The girl shook her head in disagreement with the need for the question to be answered. Yet, still she dove into the abscesses of her mind. To those places that made her love battle so much, a smirk crossed her lips, to that place that made her crave adrenaline like some cracked out junkie, her smile faded, to that place from which her enjoyment of watching the light drain from an opponent’s eyes sprang…. Her smile was gone, but her answer had been found. She wanted to be normal. She wanted to feel like everyone else did… She wanted to feel. They say it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all… It was a lie that could not be applied to her situation. To have known the what it meant to touch, to feel something against your skin and then have it so suddenly tore from you… it was a wonder the girl hadn’t lost her mind in the process. Oh, to imagine what it must be like for those that lose senses they’d grown so accustomed to. At least those that lost their sight became superior in other aspects. What would replace her lost sense of touch? A better sense of taste perhaps? The idea was a welcomingly light thing that make her chuckle. Knowing her luck she’d gain this superior sense of taste only to find that all of the food she enjoys is actually disgusting or something of the sort. The young woman shook her head once more.

“Oomi?” The voice was somewhat high pitched, that of a child’s. When she found its source, her assumption would prove to be true. Slightly off to her right was a young boy by the name of, Ban. He was a short thing, shorter than most of the boys his age – a thing which often found him being picked on. Not to mention he was younger than most of the other boys at the Academy as well, a result of his parents wanting all of their children to start earlier. Some belief that they would become significantly stronger by starting two or three years earlier…

“Oh, hi Ban~” Oomi said, glad to have someone to listen to besides her own inner monologue.

“It is you. I didn’t know, what with the bed sheet you’re wearing.” Ban replied with a hearty chuckle.

“Oh hush yew~” Oomi couldn’t help but laugh at his joke, however corny it may have been.

“Haha. Where are you going, Oomi?” The boy asked as he turned took a place next to the young woman and motioned for her to continue walking. Which she did, though she wouldn’t be allowing him to continue all that far with him. Where she was going, he surely couldn’t come.

“The monument.” The girl said somewhat flatly,a thing that Ban took notice of but didn’t comment on. He’d only known the girl to be an excitable ball of energy, and thus such emotionless tones were strange to him. But, he’d not bother her about it.

“But, people say it’s so cold there that it burnnnss~” Ban mused as he rubbed his biceps with the opposite hand as if he were suddenly extremely cold.

“I know, so you’d better get on home.”

“Well… You be safe, Oomi!” Ban wouldn’t argue, he’d no intention of burning alive in freezing temperatures. It was a far better idea to return to his friends and enjoy the rest of his years. Whatever was wrong with Oomi he’d find out when she returned… assuming she returned of course.

Oomi was glad there was no need to explain to the boy why she was going. Better to say nothing of it than to have to come up with some reason that would uphold her jocular and carefree image in his eyes. What would he think of her had she told him? Probably nothing different in truth. What was so bad about wanting to test the theories? Wanting to see if she really would burn… Perhaps she’d feel that… A girl could only dream.

“AN ENEMY HAS BEEN SIGHTED! AN ENEMY HAS BEEN SIGHTED!”

When did she get this close to the monument? Where the hell had this screaming fool come from? “Where? Who? Is it Seven Bells’ people?” Oomi asked as the screaming shinobi neared her.

“I don’t know… he’s…” The shinobi certainly wasn’t the most brave of them. Perhaps, he’d come to fear the soldiers of Seven Bells, and thus because he’d thought Mamoru one of them… or maybe this one was just cowardly. “He’s back that way… It’s a sneak attack! We’ve got to mass the troops!”

“Just one guy? I’ll handle it.” Oomi said with a determined fist pump. The cowardly ninja nearly burst into a hysterical fit of laughter. What could this one girl do? Then again… he did recognize the cloak she wore. It belonged to a man that had recently become Jounin.

“Is that Wolfgang’s cloak?” The shinobi asked pointing to the ebon garment she wore.

“Yes, I whopped his ass and took it from him.” The girl lied, hoping it would be enough to convince this cowardly shinobi that he could handle the situation herself.

“Well, you right on ahead and handle that guy then. I’ll just wait here…”

Well, that was far easier than she expected. With any luck this stranger really was one of Seven Bells’ soldiers. She’d get to test her strength again against one of the most powerful opponents she’d ever faced. True, she’d done battle with a number of her fellow shinobi, but none were as strong as they… not on their own anyway. A mischievous grin slid across the girls lips as she turned from her new companion and headed onward toward the monument. As she left him, the shinobi called out the name that he’d been given by Mamoru as if it were of some true importance to the girl. She was only worried about the prospect of finding some sensation in combat, hoping that he was strong enough to make her feel the pain caused by his strikes… At the very least she’d get her adrenaline fix, which was cause for celebration. It was only a matter of moments before she found the strange visitor within eyesight.

“Oi! You the one called, Mu?” Oomi yelled at the top of her lungs. She’d not get the moment she wanted to admire the large pillar, so adorned in its beautiful kanji. It was a testament to the idea that the land of water would always be stained red. Perhaps, it was in their very nature to slaughter even their own people. Yet, still Oomi had respected the Mizukage’s decision when she’d heard of it. She couldn’t say it was the wrong one to be made. Though she was still too young to understand the full ramifications of it, or perhaps simply too removed from the consequences of the act. “I hear you’re one of Seven Bells’ guys.” Oomi continued as she moved closer, though she’d leave a good deal of space between them. No need to be extra reckless like usual. Though she did want nothing more than to simply charge him and get this started. “Guess that means I’ve got to kill you now, right?”


[ Word Count: 1,559 ]
[ Training; TBD ]

Seven Bells Saga
The Long Road Arc
Act Two: Psalms of Oomi.
Scene Three: The Boy who cried; “Enemy!”

Nothingness. She didn’t catch it at first, instead giving him a twisted grin of confusion. What in the hell was he talking about? Hands slid to hips when she’d realized he was referring to the name she’d just attributed to him. Mu. “Trying to be funny, eh?” She half snorted beneath a frustrated mumble whilst leaning forward slightly to offer a better sight of her obviously annoyed facade. It wasn’t important, but he’d made her feel even the slightest bit stupid. No doubt her initial confusion could not be masked so late afterwards. Perhaps had she not been so sure that he were an enemy it might have mattered even less. However, as things stood an enemy had gained some small victory over her – a thing most unacceptable.

To worsen matters further as if the prior victory were proof of her inadequacy the cocky fiend dared that she attempt taking his life. Sure of his abilities after having so handily dealt with her on an intellectual level once before, the young man was goading her further by doubting her prowess in battle. She was sure of these facts and would have none of it. If ever there was a time to prove herself worthy of the markings she bore on the band that tied her hair in place, it was now. “Ooooh, you’re gonna get it Bell-chmen!” This was her clever response; Bellchmen. In her mind it was meant to represent her soon to be opponent’s status as a Seven Bell’s Henchmen. She’d also thought it a clever take on the word belch, implying he was blowing hot air or some such. Not that he’d have caught all that, or that anyone would have… Nor would they actually be expected to.

Oomi thought of shouting some final battle cry before lunging herself at ‘Mu’ of the Nothingness but decided against it. Nope, this particular fighter had insulted her one too many times and needed to be taught a lesson – this could otherwise be known as simply pissing off a young woman that probably thought entirely too much and blew an entire situation out of proportion…. Or better yet invented one of her own design. Whatever the case, there was a seconds pause after her comment about how he was going to ‘Get it’ before powerful legs took off in a short sprint that would amount to just a few steps considering their proximity. Once in range, granted ol’Mamoru didn’t move she’d launch a quick left jab, that would be followed immediately by a right hook. The former was directed upon his face, while the latter was a body shot that would find his left side if she were fortunate.

No need to use any fancy jutsu just yet, her natural speed was enough to match the average Chuunin. Her strength was a bit lacking, but she’d make up for it when the time came. For now the goal was to put this stranger to the test. There were a number of questions that needed answering before she threw herself completely into this battle. ... Or maybe if she were being completely honest with herself; the fight needed to be drawn out, she needed to build the adrenaline that she craved so dearly slowly… let it tease her at first, like some kind of sensual chemical foreplay that would lead to inevitable glorious release.

[Word Count: 2,122]
[Training: TBD]