It was a quiet night, as most nights were on this part of town, at this particular hour. Not that it got any louder during the day, not since the plague had forced most people to flee their homes, if they hadn't been unlucky enough to waste away inside of them.
Now, three years later, it remained almost completely empty, as per protocol. It was a bad omen to wander onto these streets and, after all, people didn't enjoy those. Rumors about ghosts wailing in the dark emptiness circulated, keeping most people away; even the bravest, toughest men didn't feel the need to disturb the souls from beyond the grave after the sun set. Naruto judged himself amongst them, in both bravery and respect for the departed, even if he was yet to be recognized as one. That one night, however, he'd found himself wandering into the deserted streets, without any apparent aim, his head filled with pilling thoughts; he didn't feel like returning home that night, not even to change out of his dirty work clothes. The young man knew he'd eventually have to face reality but, that night his feet kept taking him in further and further away.
"We could move into one of these houses..." He uttered, lost in thought, rubbing his still stubble-less chin.
The former decree barred anyone from living in the buildings for at least four years, but with the current protocol the zone had been declared safe for some time now. Yet, the governor had still not formally ceased the restrictions and, due to the rumors, people hadn't pushed for it either. He was reasonably wary of spirits but, as of now, he hadn't heard any, not a soul, living or dead., after all ghosts only existed in old stories told by old women to get kids to obey.
He scoffed at the idea, kicking his tattered, brown shoe into the dirt. His situation didn't seem like it could get any worse.
Naruto felt a chill go up his spine, his blonde hairs standing on end as he heard a soft, ethereal voice call out from somewhere. He froze in place. Turning his head in every direction, he tried to find a human to connect that whisper to. It had been soft enough that the wind could have been the culprit, which made him doubt his own sanity for a second.
Though still a whisper, this time he felt anxiety within the call. His feet shifted under him as his body prepared itself to flee. His mind rushed through all the apologies and prayers he knew, his legs starting to tremble.
The terrified teenager stopped in his tracks, his brain processing the words, beginning to understand this might not be a specter at all. His blue eyes scanned the darkness slowly, tracing every building until he finally saw it. A few meters in front of him, in what he measured to be the third floor of a dilapidated, white brick house, a thin, pale arm stuck out of a hole in the wall .
He approached one step at a time, trying to hide his presence, at least until he could identify what was going on. The buildings in that area were almost as old as the country itself, and had suffered repairs and modifications over the years, as well as some structural additions, one of the most useful ones being external staircases. A rusty, iron ladder connected to a narrow platform that leveled with the first floor, supported by four sturdy metal beams, hung close to the ground. It took some effort to pull it down without making a sound and even more to climb, his worn soles slipping every three steps, and the long ragged sleeve of his once white linen shirt snagging on loosened nails. The second set of stairs was easier, as the proper staircase was supported by columns and stuck still between the first and second platform. His heart was beating into his ear as he ascended, adrenaline pumping his body forwards, with all his five senses on edge until he reached the third floor.
He kneeled down in front of the moldy, crumbling wall, where the hole he'd seen was. He estimated it big enough for his leg to pass, but not enough for his head to peak through. The arm was no longer sticking out of it. Instead, he was met with a face of white: deadly pale skin stained with dust, eyes the color of snow looking dead into his blue ones, and greasy dark hair messy and tangled; his heart skipped a beat, a shiver going down his spine, his body ready to retreat, but he stopped himself. Something about this apparition felt tangible. She looked like a very young woman, maybe around his age, but something about her still felt off.
"Who are you?" He whispered, holding his heart in his palm.
"Please, I need help." The girl was holding herself from crying as much as she could. "They're coming back any second, please...
"Who are? What's happening? Are you trapped in there?"
Naruto ruffled his over-grown hair, stressed and in disbelief that he would find himself in this uncanny situation, especially after the day he'd had.
"I'll get you out, just give me a second and I'll..."
"No!" She blurted as hushed as she could.
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