The hospital smelled like antiseptic, clean steel, and burnt spiritual energy. Faint murmurs from healers echoed softly down the quiet, dimly lit white halls. Moonlight filtered through the narrow windows, casting pale silver streaks across the cold stone floor. The world outside was cloaked in darkness, but inside, the glow of healing runes and lanterns fought back the shadows.
But none of that mattered to Ryju—not when the nurse walked out of the emergency room, clipboard in hand, smiling gently.
"Ryju," she said, "you can see your friends now. They've all woken up."
His heart stopped—then leapt.
"Actually?!" he gasped, eyes wide.
She nodded. "Yes. You may."
Ryju didn't wait another second.
He sprinted down the corridor, his sandals slapping against the stone floor, heart pounding like a war drum.
They made it. They're alive.
Academy Hospital – Recovery Room
The recovery room was dim, lit softly by lanterns and the quiet glow of spiritual healing runes carved into the walls. The air was still and heavy with exhaustion.
His friends lay across several cots, wrapped in bandages and bruised all over—but breathing.
Alive.
"Hi guys," Ryju said softly, stepping in. His smile was weak but real. "How're you feeling?"
Rei groaned. "My whole body hurts…"
"Yeah… same here," Goro muttered, wincing as he adjusted in bed.
"I'm okay. Just sore," Kuroyami said, voice low.
"My back feels like it's been stabbed by ten swords," Shun grumbled.
Kenshiro was already buried under his blanket. "I'm horrible everywhere. I wanna go home."
Ryju chuckled. "Can't blame you for that."
Then the door creaked open.
The Spiritual King stepped inside, his presence was commanding, but his voice was calm.
"I'm glad to see you all awake."
Ryju stood and bowed slightly. "Yeah… me too."
The king looked around the room, then crossed his arms. "I've postponed the next challenge by five days. You'll need time to recover."
"Good…" Kuroyami said under his breath.
Rei nodded weakly. "Thanks…"
But Ryju's eyes narrowed. "Are you going to address what happened?"
The king's expression didn't change.
"There's nothing to address. Fighting is not against the rules. It is a natural part of becoming a ninja."
Ryju's fists clenched. "I understand fighting. But that wasn't fighting—he was trying to kill us."
"Still," the king said flatly, "it was a fight. And people die in fights."
"But he hated the weak!" Ryju snapped. "He was enjoying it!"
The Spiritual King finally looked him in the eyes.
"Then don't be weak."
The words hit harder than any slash.
Ryju opened his mouth to argue—but the king continued.
"You rushed into a battle you couldn't win. That wasn't bravery. That was recklessness. Don't get angry at me because you weren't strong enough."
Ryju flinched. The room was silent.
"But that's not why I came here today," the king went on. "You six are different. If you survive these trials… if you become full-fledged ninjas… I'll tell you who you really are. Why you're still alive."
He turned, and left without another word.
"…'Who we really are?'" Ryju repeated under his breath.
"What's he talking about?" Shun asked, confused.
"No idea," Kuroyami mumbled.
"Don't care," Kenshiro yawned. "I'm going back to sleep."
"You're so boring," Rei sighed.
She turned to Ryju.
"But seriously—don't lose your temper. We were weak."
"…Yeah," Kuroyami said quietly. "I was the weakest. I was just a burden."
Silence.
Ryju stood slowly.
"I'm going for a walk."
Outside – The Hospital Great Village Night time
The evening air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of rain from the distant mountains. As Horse- drawn carriages was moving at night time. Lanterns were being lit across the village, casting long shadows on the stone pathways.
Ryju walked alone, hands in his pockets, his thoughts a storm.
Man… I was so weak. Grandpa would've never fallen like that. Neither would Dad… or my brother. I've got to get stronger. Somehow.
He looked at his hand.
Then slowly clenched it into a fist.
"…Actually, I need a break."
"You really do."
Ryju froze.
That voice…
"No way. If I turn around and it's—"
He turned.
There, perched lazily on a tree branch above the trail, legs swinging, was the boy who had nearly killed them all.
Uzuki.
"Y-You!" Ryju shouted. "You came to finish me off?!"
Uzuki shrugged. "If I wanted to, you'd already be dead."
Ryju took a step back, heart racing.
"Then… why are you here?"
"Just wanted to see if your friends made it."
"Why would you care?! You did that to them!"
Uzuki tilted his head. "Because I came to finish them off."
"What?!"
A slow smirk tugged at Uzuki's lips. "Kidding."
"That's not funny!" Ryju yelled. "I'll kill you!"
In a blur, Uzuki vanished—then reappeared directly behind Ryju, barely inches from his neck.
"We don't want to go that route again… do we?"
So fast…
Ryju swallowed hard.
"Can I ask you something?" he said slowly. "Your name… and age."
Uzuki raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"So I know the name of my rival."
Uzuki chuckled. "You think we're rivals? Cute."
Then, after a pause:"Fine. I'm ten. Name's Uzuki."
"…Ten?!" Ryju whispered, horrified. He's only ten… and already this powerful?!
"That all?"
Ryju nodded. "Yeah."
"Good. See you in the next challenge."
With that, Uzuki vanished into the air—gone like smoke in the breeze.
Minutes Later – The Spiritual King's Office
Ryju burst through the door, breathless.
"Spiritual King!"
The king didn't even look up.
"Don't ever bang on my door like that again," he said coldly.
"Sorry—but this is urgent! Also… this is my first time in your office. It's so clean… The past kings' portraits are amazing—wait! Focus!"
Ryju stepped closer.
"The boy who attacked us—his name is Uzuki!"
The king nodded.
"Uzuki Makando. Full name. From the Makando Clan—the Clan of Swords. He's a prodigy."
Ryju's eyes widened. "That's… insane."
"He mastered the One Sword Style by five. By nine, he was known as 'The Prodigy of the Sword.'"
The king's voice softened.
"His mother died giving birth to him. Since then, he's obsessed with being the best. And he might already be. He's mastered the Blinded Sword Style—a technique only two others in his clan ever achieved."
Ryju leaned in. "What's that?"
"A style where the user fights without sight. Only with instinct and sound. If he hears you… you're already dead."
The king looked Ryju in the eyes.
"He's the favorite to win this year's trials."
Ryju stood frozen. The truth sank in like a stone.
Then slowly—he looked down at his hands.
"…Do I even stand a chance?"
He tightened his fists.
"…No. Not yet. But I'll change that. I'm going to defeat him. I swear it."
The Spiritual King gave a rare, approving smile.
"I'd love to see that."