Hanzo had taken a room in one of the hotels jutting out from the busy arteries of Akakaze City. Neon spilled through the curtains, painting the walls in restless colors, but the man inside sat unmoved. His posture was still, his breathing measured, but the object in his hands betrayed the truth of his torment.
A mirror.
But it did not show him.
The reflection that stared back from its glassy surface was Shura's—a face carved from malice, with burning eyes that seemed to sear straight through the fragile barrier between the mortal and the abyss.
"Remind me why we are here again?" Shura's voice coiled like smoke from the glass. His lips did not move, yet the sound echoed inside Hanzo's skull.
Hanzo's tone was quiet, but each word carried weight. "You told me before—if I gain the seals and end Renji, I'll rise. The Overlord. The chosen vessel of your abyssal will." His knuckles whitened against the frame of the mirror. "Two birds, one stone. Renji is within the Hono no Sheshi now. And that… is a good thing."
Shura's reflection smirked, lips curling like embers catching flame. "You want to kill him now?"
Hanzo's eyes narrowed, his voice low. "Is it possible?"
"No." Shura's reply was blunt, almost mocking. "Not yet. You're not strong enough to face him directly. His abyss is awakening, and the guild's eyes will be on him. You would burn out before striking him down. To kill him, you'll need the aid of one of my demon generals."
The words hung heavy in the dim room. A flicker of annoyance passed across Hanzo's face, quickly masked by his usual stoicism. "And what price would that demand? Your generals don't move without purpose."
Shura's grin widened. "The price is always blood. But not yours."
Hanzo's silence stretched, broken only by the muffled hum of city life outside. The tension was a rope pulled taut, threatening to snap. Finally, he spoke, voice carrying both defiance and resolve. "Then I'll consider it. But first—I must find their base."
The mirror darkened, Shura's eyes glowing hotter in the shadows. "That will not be simple. The spirit of their arrogant Grandmaster still lingers. His wards seal their location from any demon or shadow-born. My claws cannot reach them."
Hanzo tilted his head, gaze sharpening. "But you're saying I can."
"Precisely." Shura's voice dripped with satisfaction. "You're no longer wholly mine, nor wholly theirs. A fracture in the rules. A loophole."
Hanzo set the mirror down on the small hotel desk, his reflection returning for just an instant before Shura's face flickered back into place like a flame refusing to die. His jaw tightened as he thought of Renji—the boy who carried the abyss, the boy whose very existence was both curse and challenge.
"Then I'll find them," Hanzo muttered. "And when I do, Renji won't live long enough to regret crossing paths with me."
The mirror pulsed once, like a heartbeat.
Shura chuckled, low and cruel. "Good. Because whether by your hand or mine, the abyss always claims its own."
The neon light sputtered outside as if shuddering at the omen.
Meanwhile
Renji opened his eyes to the soft comfort of a bed, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. For half a heartbeat, he thought he was back home. But the room was too pristine, too quiet, and the walls weren't his. The realization jolted through him like ice water.
He sat up abruptly, heart hammering, breath shallow. Memories of the previous day slammed into him all at once—the duel with Halfka, the bloodlust of the chained demon, the searing flames of the Oath, and the way his body had finally given out. He remembered collapsing. He remembered the darkness.
And now… this.
A sharp knock echoed across the room. The door creaked open, revealing a familiar figure.
"Nice to see you're up again, Renji," Ayaka said, her tone even, but her eyes softened with a trace of relief.
He blinked, caught off guard. "Thanks, um…"
"Ayaka," she supplied quickly, stepping fully into the room. "Just call me Ayaka. And for the record, I'm pleased to inform you that you've successfully passed all the trials—even mine. It was the least I could do after you saved my life."
Renji scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. "It was nothing, really. Anyone would've done the same."
Ayaka's lips twitched into something between a smile and a frown. "Not anyone, Renji."
The silence stretched for a breath, heavy with unspoken weight. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, you just missed the morning drills with the Sheshi trainers. But… if you're up for it, I can teach you myself."
"I'm ready," Renji said without hesitation.
Her brow arched. "Ready? You just woke up. I thought you'd want to rest. Eat something, maybe? Your body took a beating yesterday."
Renji rolled his shoulder, testing the ache. To his own surprise, there was none. "My injuries are gone. Let's start now."
Ayaka tilted her head, studying him as though trying to read the truth behind his stubbornness. Then she sighed, almost amused. "Fine. Have it your way."
---
The underground training center was cavernous, its walls lined with glowing crystals that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. Ayaka stepped into the circle at its center, gesturing for him to follow.
"First things first," she said, arms folding. "How do you summon your powers?"
Renji shrugged. "I just… release the leash on the abyss swirling inside me."
Her expression tightened. "When you went into that grandmaster mode yesterday, what was it?
Renji glanced down at the amulet on his arm. "This keeps me from losing control. Without it, I only have the power. I can't wield it with precision like Grandmaster Kenshi."
Ayaka studied him a moment longer, then nodded. "Well, the art of summoning fire is different. Simple, but not easy. Think of something that makes you angry, then channel your aura through that emotion. Let it explode outward until it takes form."
"Until it becomes a physical manifestation of my fury," Renji finished for her.
Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"
Renji thought of his earlier failures as the empty vessel, of trying and failing to spark even the smallest ember. He forced a smirk. "Call it a guess."
She huffed softly but didn't press. "Alright. Try it."
Renji closed his eyes, centering himself. Ayaka stepped closer, guiding his arm upward, palm open. Her fingers lingered on his scarred hand a heartbeat longer than necessary before pulling away.
"Focus," she instructed, her voice quieter now.
Time bled slowly. Minutes became an hour. Sweat beaded on his brow. Ayaka's stance shifted, her sharp confidence softening into doubt.
"Most don't get it the first day," she murmured, half-turning to leave. "You can try again tomorrow—"
Heat surged behind her like a furnace roaring to life. Ayaka froze, her eyes widening as she spun around.
Renji's hand glowed crimson, veins alight as if molten fire coursed through them.
"Well," Ayaka breathed, surprise flickering into admiration. "That was fast."
But the glow shifted, darkening. Red bled into violet. His hand turned a shade too unnatural, too otherworldly. Then—
With a sudden burst, his palm ignited, purple flames roaring upward, casting eerie shadows across the chamber. Ayaka immediately took a step back. " What?"