The first rays of dawn cut through the pale leaves of Shiroi territory. The village was quiet, almost eerily so, though distant clangs and hums from the workshops reminded Shiro that life here never truly stopped. Even in peace, Shiroi warriors trained. Every day, every hour, sharpening mind, body, and weapon.
Shiro stood in the courtyard, rubbing his sore shoulders. The night had been long. Exhausting. He hadn't slept, not really, not after the ridge and the confrontation with the Meiji trackers. And now, standing in the central square of a village built entirely for battle, he felt exposed and out of place.
Arashi appeared beside him, her white coat flaring slightly with the breeze. Her blonde braid caught the sunlight as she smirked. "You look like a kid who just fell into a pit of steel."
"I… haven't trained like this before," Shiro muttered. His fingers brushed the pouch of concealment charms at his waist, feeling its weight. "Everything happened too fast."
Arashi shook her head. "That's the point. You can't afford to feel ready. You won't survive if you do."
Shiro's stomach sank. She wasn't exaggerating. Even in the village's relative safety, he felt the eyes of the Shiroi warriors watching. Not hostile—but expectant. They could sense his latent Shadow Gi. A single wrong move, and the whispers would start. Shadowless heir, untrained… can he even survive?
"Come on," Arashi said, gesturing toward a stone platform at the far end of the courtyard. "Time to see if your Shadow Gi can actually fight instead of just scare people."
Shiro hesitated. His knees shook as he followed her. The platform was slightly elevated, square and bare, surrounded by markers etched into the stone—targets for throwing weapons, indicators for combat stance, distance markers, everything a Shiroi would need for training.
And at the center stood a man whose presence made Shiro's stomach tighten.
Elder Shinta.
He wore his white robe, the steel patches gleaming faintly, and his spear rested across his back. But it wasn't the spear that made him formidable—it was the aura. A pressure that pressed against Shiro's chest, like the air itself was heavier when the man exhaled.
Shinta's voice was quiet, measured. "Shiro Kage."
Shiro swallowed, stepping forward. His fingers tingled. His heart pounded. Somehow, he could feel Shinta's gaze probing him—reading him like a book. "Yes… Elder Shinta," he said, voice small.
"You awakened Shadow Gi within hours of leaving your village," Shinta continued, pacing slowly. "This is extraordinary for someone of your age and experience." He stopped, kneeling slightly to meet Shiro's eyes. "But awakening alone is meaningless without mastery."
Shiro's chest tightened. He had no choice. He couldn't retreat. Not now. "I… want to learn," he said.
Shinta's eyes narrowed, then softened just slightly. "Good. Desire is necessary. But it is not enough. Shadow Gi is unlike other forms of Gi. It feeds on fear, instinct, and willpower. If you are weak in these, it will betray you."
Shiro's stomach churned. "Betray me?"
"Yes," Shinta said. "Shadow Gi will warp, slip, and disappear if your mind is not focused. Worse, it can consume you. Shadows are patient… but they are not kind."
Shiro swallowed hard.
Arashi nudged him. "Ready to prove you're not useless?"
Shiro glared at her. "I'll try."
"Try?" she laughed softly. "You're the last Kage. Don't 'try.' Do."
Shinta gestured to the center of the platform. "Demonstrate Shadow Step. Use it to reach that target over there." He pointed to a wooden dummy about ten meters away. It was a simple test—easy for someone with basic teleportation—but for Shiro, still terrifying.
Shiro stepped forward, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. He tried to summon the same surge he felt on the ridge, but nothing happened. Only a faint pulse along his wrists.
"Again," Shinta said calmly.
Again, he tried. And again, failure. His Shadow Gi refused to respond. His chest tightened, panic rising. Fear whispered: You can't. You're weak. You'll die.
Arashi stepped closer, voice sharp. "Stop whining! Feel it! Fear, instinct, everything! Don't think! Move!"
Shiro's teeth clenched. He shut his eyes, focusing on every memory—the village burning, Renshiro's voice, the ridge, explosions. He let it all coalesce into a single, raw feeling: survival.
And then—
The world blurred.
Shiro gasped as the familiar rush returned. He vanished.
When he reappeared, he was standing perfectly in front of the dummy. Not a stumble, not a blur—solid, precise.
Arashi's eyes widened. "Holy—"
Shinta's expression was unreadable. "Not bad."
Shiro's legs wobbled. He hadn't fallen, hadn't stumbled, but the exertion left him shaking. Sweat dripped down his forehead. His fingers tingled as the Shadow Gi dissipated slightly, leaving him trembling.
"You see," Shinta said softly, "Shadow Gi is not about strength or technique. It is about presence. Command it… or it consumes you."
Shiro nodded. "I… understand."
Arashi rolled her eyes. "You understand? Kid, you just teleported ten meters. Now try twenty."
Shiro's eyes widened.
Shinta waved a hand. "Ignore her. Start with ten. Then fifteen. Then twenty. Your body and mind must adapt before pushing limits."
Shiro swallowed and focused again. The wooden dummy seemed farther than before, the distance stretching like a challenge. His hands tingled. Shadows pooled under his feet like liquid ink, waiting, patient.
Fear surged—panic. What if I fail? What if I fall? What if I die?
Then he remembered the ridge, Renshiro, and Arashi pulling him to safety. He remembered the Meiji trackers, Genkai, the Akuma elites. He remembered his parents. His clan.
Shiro inhaled, heart steadying, and allowed the shadows to answer.
—Shadow Step—
The world blurred.
Shiro reappeared in front of the dummy, landing perfectly.
"Excellent," Shinta said quietly. "You are learning fast."
Shiro's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto one hand, gasping. His Shadow Gi felt like molten fire within him, powerful and alive. He could feel it pulsing, responding to his fear, his focus, his heartbeat.
Arashi crossed her arms, clearly impressed. "Not bad, shadow boy. Not bad at all."
Shiro ignored her, staring at his hands. They were trembling. His chest burned. He felt alive in a way he hadn't before. This wasn't just survival. This was awakening.
Shinta walked slowly around him, spear tapping lightly against the stone platform. "Shadow Gi is more than speed. You must learn to move without sound, strike without warning, vanish without notice, and control shadows as if they are extensions of your body. Only then will you survive."
Shiro nodded, still breathing heavily. "I… will."
Shinta stopped and crouched again, bringing his eyes level with Shiro's. "Tomorrow, you train in darkness. No light. No markers. No guidance. You and your shadow alone."
Shiro swallowed. "Alone?"
"Yes," Shinta said. "Because in battle, the light is never guaranteed. You must move in total darkness and trust yourself."
Shiro's stomach knotted. "I've never… fought in total darkness."
Shinta's gaze didn't waver. "Then you will."
Arashi chuckled softly. "You're going to love this, Shadow Prince. Or hate it. Depends on how stubborn you are."
Shiro groaned.
The sun rose higher, painting the valley with pale gold. Shiro felt its warmth but didn't notice it. His mind was already racing ahead—how to train, how to survive, how to become the Kage.
Shinta stood and placed his hand on the platform's edge. "Rest for now. Eat. Recover. Tomorrow, training begins at first light."
Shiro nodded, still trembling slightly. "Yes, Elder Shinta."
Arashi's voice pulled him back from his spiraling thoughts. "Come on. Food. You look like a zombie who just got kicked in the stomach by a mountain."
Shiro allowed himself to be guided through the village, away from the platform. His mind raced with what he'd just learned: Shadow Step, instinct, fear, control. And more importantly—the realization that he wasn't alone. Arashi, Shinta, maybe Renshiro… for the first time in his life, he felt like he had people on his side.
That feeling was fragile, but it was enough.
As they approached the dining hall, Arashi nudged him. "Tomorrow, it gets worse. Believe me."
Shiro looked at her, exhausted but determined. "I'm ready."
Arashi smirked. "Good. Because in the land of ninjas, if you're not, someone will make sure you regret it."
Shiro clenched his fists. "I won't be weak. I'll become the Kage."
She raised an eyebrow. "Bold words. Let's see if you can live up to them."
For the first time in his life, Shiro didn't doubt it.
The path ahead was dark, dangerous, and uncertain. But for the first time, he felt something he hadn't felt in years—hope.
Shadow Gi pulsed quietly under his feet, ready.
And Shiro Kage was ready to rise.