For the entirety of a month, Hanza Kōri had been a motionless, cold, limp piece of flesh on a hospital bed in Kumogakure no Sato. The news of his unfortunate accident had resounded across the chunin exams which were being televised across the lands. It had been seen by anyone who was anyone. His annihilation has been shown to everyone. The young girls who had taken him up as a favorite “heartthrob” competitor would gasp in terror, some would cry as they watched him crash against the metal pylon and go limp. Nobody had known just what had happened to Hanza Kōri in those few moments. It was a grievous thing to show to a live television audience, but it was truly the face of shinobi life in the current era.

Beneath the cold and the limp, inside of Hanza’s mind he was sitting in a dainty little chair with a circular table in front of him. A screaming teapot sat in the center, two dishes and two cups sat upon them. The set was white ceramic with blue floral patterns dancing about on each piece of china. The surrounding environment was a large empty field consisting of around a foot of snow in average, some spots with less accumulation that others. There was almost nothing necessarily wrong with this scene. Hanza noticed a woman walking from the corner of his eyes. She was beautiful, white hair that fell to her shoulders with a nice amount of bounce to it. Her eyes were green and she was rather thin and pale just like him.

“Hello, Hanza. Would you like some tea before we get started?” her voice came to him soothingly. It was his subconscious idea of the most calming and soothing voice he could conceive. He nodded to her gingerly and watched as she poured the steaming hot liquid into his cup, over the teabags. “Do you know why you’re here, Hanza?”

He thought to himself for several moments before finally speaking “I am...not completely sure. I can’t remember much. Have I died?” he said that so calmly. There wasn’t any real reason for it to be urgent anyhow, if the answer was yes. Slightly more concerning would be if the answer were no.

The woman laughed at him, a gentle giggle. “No, darling. You aren’t really allowed to die here. You have a long path ahead of you. No dying today.” she seemed to look a bit forlorn when she told him that. A bit concerned. “Hanza. I have to be forward with you. You are not strong-willed enough to take on what lies ahead in your current headspace. If you go back out there like this, the world is going to tear you to pieces.”

Hanza held his cup, shaking slightly as he leaned forward for a sip. “I am not weak...I’ve been training for months. I think I have a decent shot at winning the chunin exams. Why do you believe that I am weak.”

The woman bit her lip nervously before standing and picking up the hot tea kettle. She walked carefully toward Hanza, slowly, and even so Hanza could find absolutely no ability to move. She stopped before him and a tear streamed down her cheek. “If I fail to make you understand before you wake up, you will die. We will die. Please forgive me.” With that said, she pushed Hanza’s head upward gently with a finger under his chin and pulled his eyelid back.

As the boiling water poured into his eye, splashing over across his face, he could do nothing beyond scream. Struggling wasn’t going to work here. The pain was indescribable. The water seemed to be limitless. “Please! STOP! I don.., I...” The woman had exceptional creativity with a limitless supply of tools with which she could torment Hanza. The amount of time that elapsed was 30 days. The tea set and the table were shattered at the end of this. The white snow in this field was stained thoroughly red. Hanza climbed to his feet and looked at the woman in his miserable condition. Burns across his entire body. His bone exposed in several places. Disfigured horribly.

“Hanza of the Kōri. What’s to come is worse than this. But I think you understand now. I trust that you will survive it. We will meet again. Until then. I am sorry. Please forgive me.” She left, fading into nothing as she appeared to begin to sob. A loud, undaunting beep sounded throughout the area. It pained Hanza’s ears as he stood in the blood-drizzled snow, staring into the distance. With a sudden and disturbing jolt, Hanza’s eyes unsealed and opened. The hospital room he lay within had been so devastatingly coated with ice that the nurses could no longer open the door to get in. They had contacted emergency services to help.

Hanza reached over onto the side table and pulled forth a letter written with wonderful penmanship. It was a poem. Chigetsu of the Hōzuki was a person of which Hanza had never heard, but the poem he had written was beautiful. After everything Hanza had been through, the poem drew out a flood of emotion, tears rained onto the parchment.

“Spring will come again. But not for me.”

Hanza would release himself that night before the nurses could reach him, through the window. He would travel to Konohagakure, pack his things, and then head to Kirigakure no Sato, where he would take his next steps.

[Exit Thread]

936/600 Konoha -> Kirigakure