Akari means light.
Light meaning the only array of hope given to the Ayumu nation. One of the largest empires known to mankind.
When the empire suddenly disappears on the young girl's seventh birthday, an invasion erasing the nation forever, causing...
Through blurry sights and drowned ears, I watch my palm lay onto the gravel, open and unmoving as my black hair flies outstretched into horizons at the ground.
"Lady Akari Ayumu, thirty-first heir to the Ayumu nation-"
A cold unrecognizable feeling clasps around my wrist.
"-You are arrested by the Land of Fire for holding a secret planned alliance with The Land of Wind as well as being an alias to the death of the Third Hokage."
Shortly after, a feeling collapses within me, and my world is empty, and dark.
...............
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It gets colder with each step of the corridor as his flat steps slam into the cement ground, ringing against the walls, navy pants, and wide shoulders, a distinctive aspect of his figure. His breath rises and falls, quickening with each minute and flicker of the old lights lining the walls as the piercing air freezes in temperature.
The colder it gets...the closer she could be.
Early within the day, hours before the sun arrives from the blanket of night, that is the earliest he can arrive.
How could he not have known, was he too distracted by Lord Hokage's death- too immensely distracted that he couldn't recognize the words.
"Lady Akari...that treacherous girl. I hadn't known..."
His arms rapidly swing at his sides.
"I knew I was right about her, how can she tell the future and she couldn't warn anyone-!"
To regain a sense of breath, he hooks his fingers on the zipper of his green issued vest, swiftly dragging it down his shoulders and arms.
"Were lucky to have someone like Mistress Hinode on our side."
Visible clouds of white escape his mouth as he has trouble recognizing whether it derives from the cold, or the pack of cigars he had recently finished. His muscles begin to twitch from the cutting ambiance. As the corridor ends, faced with a large set of double doors.
Two men, dressed in nearly identical sets of clothing awaken from their daze of hours upon hours of guarding. "Asuma?"
They would have never expected any ounce of human life in the freakishly lit hallways, let alone a man such as him. With the village in feeble condition, him being here, where criminals lie, is certainly a surprise. "Hey you can't-" one of the men enforced the obviously scattered man.
But as a man with a large stature and strength, breaking through them was simple, it was as if they were not even there.
"Break into temporary confinement..." the guard murmurs.
Asuma stands still, unable to move as he mentally counts the never-ending number of incarcerated foreign shinobi lined up in miniature cells. Dark, and drenched in the smell of rusting metal.
