Naruto: Power in Play

Chapter 37

Pain.

Or rather—the memory of pain.

It was the first thing Ando expected to feel, the deep, raw ache that had become as familiar as breathing. Yet, when his mind clawed its way to awareness, he found... nothing. No soreness, no lingering wounds, no stiffness in his limbs.

His eyes snapped open.

A wooden ceiling. Not the blinding lights of Orochimaru's labs, nor the cold stone of a dungeon. Ando slowly sat up.

There was no resistance, no pain. His muscles obeyed without hesitation, his body moving as though it was unrestrained. No cuts, burns, seal markings, or soul-shredding agony. For a moment, it was as if it had all been nothing more than a bad dream.

But it hadn't been a dream.

Another one of Orochimaru's tricks? He wondered.

Ando steadied his breath, his eyes darting around the room. His surroundings were simple. A makeshift room, hastily constructed. The air smelled of medicine and dust. He could hear murmured voices outside—some shinobi, others civilians.

Not a lab. Not a prison. And... not a genjutsu.

Those were good signs. But that didn't mean he was safe.

He slid his feet off the cot, feeling solid ground beneath him. His chakra, usually the first thing depleted in Orochimaru's sessions, pulsed within him, whole, untouched.

His Gamer's Body had restored him completely. Physically, he was fine. But mentally, he didn't know. What was considered mentally fine anyway?

He glanced around for anything useful. A discarded medical tray, some wrapped bandages, a wooden partition. The room was empty of personal effects. His mind started racing.

Where the hell am I?

At that moment, the door creaked open. Ando turned his head slowly, his posture deceptively relaxed.

A shinobi stepped in. He was bandaged, his uniform slightly tattered. His breath hitched just a fraction upon seeing Ando awake.

"You're... up," the man said, as if confirming it for himself.

Ando didn't respond. His eyes narrowed, cold and unreadable, watching the man as though dissecting him piece by piece.

The shinobi hesitated, then took a cautious step forward. "Listen, you're safe. You're in—"

Ando moved.

His chakra seeped into the earth, shaping it in an instant. A spear of solid rock shot up from the ground, stopping just an inch from the shinobi's throat.

The man froze.

His breath caught in his chest as he stared at the sharpened tip inches from his jugular. His heart raced, his body screaming at him to react—to move, to fight, to flee. But the boy before him stood still, watching. His expression was a void, an eerie blankness that sent a chill down the ninja's spine, locking him in hesitation.

Ando tilted his head slightly, his voice coming out in a flat, monotonous tone. "Where am I?"

The shinobi's fingers twitched, instinct screaming for a response. But he forced himself still.

"... K-Konoha," he finally answered, voice tight. "Do you want me to get the one in charge?"

That told Ando what he needed to know.

The earth spear crumbled to dust, leaving no trace, as though it had never existed in the first place.

The shinobi suppressed a shudder. His breath was still uneven as he turned sharply and shut the door behind him, his footsteps hurried as he ran to report.