I trudged back home as the sun started its descent, every muscle in my body aching from Shinzai exhaustion. That strange warmth in my chest had settled into a steady pulse, like a second heartbeat I couldn't ignore.
Mina was waiting on our front steps, chin propped on her hands with the kind of patient expression that meant trouble.
"Long walk," she said as I approached.
"Yeah. Lots of... thinking."
"Uh-huh." Her eyes narrowed as she took in my grass-stained clothes and the faint smell of smoke that seemed to follow me everywhere. "And this thinking involved setting things on fire?"
"Maybe a little."
She stood up, brushing dirt from her dress. "Kaito, you're being weird. Weirder than usual. First the mysterious rice balls, then sneaking out before dawn, now you come back looking like you wrestled with a campfire."
I tried to think of a reasonable explanation that wouldn't involve mentioning Kyoto or illegal technique lessons. "I was just... practicing. For the trial."
"Practicing what? How to look like you got struck by lightning?"
"My Shinzai control." Which was technically true. "The trial's still a week away. I need to be ready."
Mina studied my face for a long moment, then sighed. "You're not going to tell me what's really going on, are you?"
"There's nothing to tell."
"Right." She turned toward the house, then paused. "Just... be careful, okay? Whatever you're doing, you look different. Like something's changing."
Her words followed me into the house, echoing what Kyoto had observed about sensing something deeper. What was everyone noticing that I couldn't feel?
That night, sleep came in fragments. Every time I drifted off, that warmth in my chest would pulse stronger, dragging me back to consciousness.
The second day of training began before sunrise. I slipped out even earlier this time, determined to make the most of whatever Kyoto was willing to teach.
He was already in the clearing when I arrived, but his relaxed demeanor from yesterday was gone. Arms crossed, expression serious, he looked like he was preparing for something important.
"How do you feel?" he asked without greeting.
"Fine. Ready to learn."
"I meant your Shinzai reserves. Any lingering effects from yesterday?"
The way he said it suggested yesterday's collapse had worried him more than he'd let on. "I feel normal. Maybe even better than normal."
"Right." His frown deepened. "Today we finish what we started. I'm going to teach you the complete Flame Threading technique, but after this, you're on your own."
"Wait, you're leaving?"
"I told you—two days. Today's day two." He moved to the center of the clearing. "Now pay attention. I'm only going through this once, and you'll need to get it right."
The next three hours were the most intense training of my life.
Kyoto broke down every aspect of Flame Threading with surgical precision. Hand positions that had to be exact to the millimeter. Breathing patterns that synchronized with Shinzai flow. Mental visualization techniques that let me shape fire like clay.
"The key," he said, demonstrating with threads that danced through the air like living things, "is understanding that fire wants to move, to grow, to reach toward something greater. Don't fight that nature—redirect it."
By mid-morning, I could create single threads that lasted nearly fifteen seconds. By noon, I was managing two threads at once, though they wavered constantly and required intense concentration.
"Enough," Kyoto said finally. "You've got the basics. The rest is practice and refinement."
"But I can barely hold them stable—"
"Which is why you need to practice." He shouldered his pack, preparing to leave. "The Academy Trial is still six days away. That's enough time to refine what I've taught you, but only if you work at it consistently."
Panic shot through me as I realized he was actually leaving. "What if I have questions? What if something goes wrong?"
"Then you figure it out. That's what real training is—learning to solve problems on your own." He paused at the edge of the clearing. "A word of advice, kid. Don't show this technique at the Academy Trial."
"What? Why not?"
"Because there are people who would be very interested in your... rapid progress. People who ask uncomfortable questions about where village boys learn advanced techniques." His expression grew serious. "Keep your head down, pass the trial with basic skills, and don't draw attention to yourself."
"I don't understand—"
"You don't need to understand. You just need to listen." He stepped into the forest shadows. "And kid? Whatever's happening to your Shinzai, whatever that extra energy I sensed yesterday was... be careful. Some gifts come with prices you don't expect to pay."
Then he was gone, vanishing into the trees like he'd never been there at all.
I stood alone in the clearing, staring at the spot where he'd disappeared. Six days. Six days to master a technique that had taken him years to perfect, with no teacher to guide me.
No pressure at all.
The next morning, I returned to the forest clearing before dawn, determined to make progress on my own. Without Kyoto's guidance, every mistake felt magnified. The flame threads I managed to create lasted barely five seconds before dissolving into normal fire.
By the time I returned home, frustration was eating at me like acid.
"You're doing it again," Mina said as I slumped onto our front steps.
"Doing what?"
"That face. The one where you're trying to solve impossible problems." She settled beside me, her small shoulder bumping against my arm. "Want to talk about it?"
"It's just... training stuff. I'm not improving fast enough."
"Maybe you need a break." She brightened suddenly. "Oh! I almost forgot. Elder Sato stopped by yesterday while you were out. He said the new books from the capital finally arrived, and Yuki wants to show them to us."
The library. I'd almost forgotten about our regular visits to old man Sato and his daughter. They ran the village's small collection of books and scrolls, and Mina loved hearing Yuki read stories about distant lands and ancient heroes.
"That sounds good," I said, and realized I meant it. Maybe a distraction would help clear my head.
"Can we go today? Please?"
"Sure. After lunch?"
Mina's grin could have lit up the entire village.
The Sato family library occupied the ground floor of a two-story building near the village center. It wasn't much compared to what I imagined existed in the capital, but for our small community, it was a treasure trove of knowledge.
Elder Sato greeted us at the door with his usual warm smile. "Kaito! Mina! Perfect timing. Yuki's been organizing the new arrivals all morning."
"Papa, they're here!" came a voice from deeper in the building.
Yuki Sato emerged from behind a towering bookshelf, her arms full of leather-bound volumes. At seventeen, she was one of the few people in the village who'd actually traveled beyond our borders—her family had connections with merchants and scholars from other regions.
"Finally!" she said, setting the books down carefully on a reading table. "I've been dying to show someone these. The merchant who brought them said they came directly from Shinkai Academy's library."
My attention sharpened. "Academy books?"
"Copies, anyway. Look at this one." She picked up a volume bound in deep blue leather. "It's a comprehensive guide to the regional political structure. Did you know there are actually six major regions, each with their own governing systems?"
She opened the book to a detailed map that made our village look tiny by comparison. "Our region is called Shinrin—the Forest Territories. We're governed by a council of village elders who report to the Regional Assembly in Mori Central."
"What about the other regions?" Mina asked, leaning in to get a better look at the map.
"Each one's different." Yuki's eyes lit up with the enthusiasm of someone who loved sharing knowledge. "Kasai Region in the desert is ruled by warrior clans. Mizu Region has merchant families controlling trade routes. Kaze Region is mostly nomadic tribes with a rotating leadership council."
She pointed to different areas of the map as she spoke. "Tsuchi Region has these ancient mountain kingdoms with hereditary rulers. And then there's Kage Region..." Her voice dropped slightly. "The Shadow Valleys. Nobody really knows how they're governed. They keep to themselves."
"What about the Academy?" I asked. "How does it fit into all this?"
"That's where it gets interesting." Yuki pulled out another book, this one bound in pristine white leather. "Shinkai Academy isn't controlled by any single region. It's officially neutral—they take students from everywhere and train them to serve the greater good."
"But?"
"But the Academy graduates often end up in positions of power throughout the regions. Regional defenders, Elite-class warriors, government advisors..." She flipped through pages filled with organizational charts and political diagrams. "Some people say the Academy is the real power behind everything, using their graduates to influence regional politics."
Elder Sato, who'd been listening from his chair by the window, chuckled softly. "Yuki, you're filling their heads with conspiracy theories again."
"It's not conspiracy if it's documented, Papa." She grinned at him affectionately. "Besides, they should know how the world works beyond our little village."
"Speaking of which," Elder Sato said, his expression growing more serious, "have you heard the latest news from the merchant networks?"
"What news?" I asked.
"Reports of unusual Akuma activity across multiple regions. Not just random attacks—coordinated strikes that suggest intelligence and planning." He adjusted his spectacles, looking troubled. "The Academy's apparently sending investigation teams to affected areas."
A chill ran down my spine. "Investigation teams?"
"Special units trained to deal with... unusual threats." Yuki pulled out a third book, this one looking more like an official report than a proper volume. "According to this, they're particularly interested in any Akuma that display behavior outside normal parameters."
Like speaking. Like bowing to village boys and calling them master.
"The really concerning part," Elder Sato continued, "is that these intelligent Akuma seem to be targeting specific individuals. Not random feeding behavior—deliberate hunting."
Mina shifted closer to me, and I automatically put an arm around her shoulders. "Why would they target specific people?"
"Nobody knows," Yuki said quietly. "But the Academy's taking it seriously enough to postpone trials and increase security protocols."
"At least that gives students more time to prepare," Elder Sato said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "Speaking of which, how's your training going, Kaito?"
"Fine," I said automatically. "Just working on basic control exercises."
"Smart approach. The Academy values solid fundamentals over flashy techniques." He smiled encouragingly. "Though I suspect you're being modest about your progress."
If only he knew.
We spent the rest of the afternoon reading through the various books and scrolls. Mina was fascinated by stories of the different regional cultures, while I found myself drawn to the technical descriptions of Academy training methods and political structures.
By the time we left, my head was spinning with new information. The world beyond our village was far more complex and dangerous than I'd ever imagined. And if intelligent Akuma were really targeting specific individuals across multiple regions...
"That was amazing!" Mina chattered as we walked home. "Did you know that in Mizu Region, they build entire cities that float on the water? And the Kaze Region nomads have these incredible flying mounts that—"
"Mina," I interrupted gently. "What did you think about what Elder Sato said? About the Akuma targeting specific people?"
Her excitement dimmed slightly. "It's scary. But we're safe here, right? We have guards, and the Academy's sending help..."
"Right. Of course we're safe."
But as we reached our house, I couldn't shake the memory of ember eyes looking at me with recognition. Of a corrupted voice calling me master. Of the way Academy officials had exchanged meaningful looks while pretending nothing unusual had happened.
Whatever was going on in the wider world, I had a feeling our little village wasn't as safe as everyone wanted to believe.
And in five days, I'd be standing in front of Academy officials again, trying to hide the fact that I'd learned an advanced technique from a mysterious exile who might or might not be connected to whatever was making Akuma intelligent.
No pressure at all.