Fire crawled through my veins like liquid agony, building to nothing.
My hands shook. Sweat dripped onto the cracked earth beneath the trial platform while Kenji's perfect flames still danced in my vision—golden serpents that had made the Academy officials lean forward with hunger in their eyes.
Three years. I'd waited three years for this chance.
And I was going to fail. Again.
"Kaito Hayashi!"
The examiner's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. Around me, the trial grounds fell silent—not the good kind of silence that came before something impressive, but the awkward quiet people made when they were about to watch a disaster.
I forced my legs to move toward the platform, each step heavier than the last. In the spectator area, Mina bounced on her toes, seven years old and still believing her big brother could do anything.
If only she knew.
The trial circle stretched before me—ancient stone inscribed with symbols that would measure my Shinzai, judge my worth, decide my future. Other candidates had made it glow with brilliant displays of power. Kenji had nearly cracked the stone with his perfect technique.
I placed my trembling hands on the cold surface and reached inside myself.
The warmth was there, just like always. But when I tried to guide it, to shape it into something useful, it bucked against my control like a wild animal. Fire burst from my fingertips—not the elegant flames I'd practiced, but screaming chaos that spiraled in every direction.
The platform's symbols blazed white-hot. Wood exploded. Ancient banners burst into flame. Academy officials scrambled backward as my power carved destruction across everything it touched.
"Shut it down!"
Water crashed against my flames, steam filling the air with the smell of failure.
"Disqualified. Complete lack of control."
The words hit harder than physical blows. Three more years. Three more years of being the village failure while my friends moved on to greatness.
Mina's applause cut through the silence—small hands clapping furiously while everyone else looked away in embarrassment.
"That was amazing! The symbols turned white!"
Amazing. Right.
Thunder rolled across clear sky.
Not weather—something else. Something wrong. Above the forest, reality twisted like heated glass, forming cracks that hurt to look at.
The guards tensed. Captain Hayato's hand moved to his sword with practiced ease.
"Dimensional breach," someone whispered.
I knew what that meant. Everyone did. When rifts opened, Akuma came through—humans twisted by corruption into mindless hunger given flesh. They attacked anything that moved, driven by endless need for Shinzai energy.
Dangerous, but predictable. The guards could handle them.
The rift tore open.
Something stumbled through that shouldn't exist in any sane world. Once human, now a nightmare of pale skin stretched over visible bone. Coal-ember eyes that burned with alien intelligence. Black veins pulsing beneath translucent flesh.
It moved wrong—joints bending in impossible directions, coordination shot to hell. Exactly what I expected from an Akuma. Corruption burned away the mind first, leaving only base instinct.
Then it spoke.
"Hun...gry..."
Every person present went rigid. Akuma didn't speak. Couldn't speak. The corruption that made them destroyed language along with everything else human.
But this one tilted its head with unmistakable focus, scanning the crowd like a predator selecting prey.
Its gaze settled on Mina.
"Sweet... little... one... Perfect... for... feeding..."
Terror hit me like a physical blow. This wasn't random hunger. This thing was choosing her.
It moved.
Not the shambling charge every guard knew how to counter, but liquid grace that flowed around their desperate attempts to intercept. In seconds that felt like hours, it reached my sister.
"Delicious terror," it said clearly.
I moved without thinking.
My body slammed between them, arms spread wide to shield Mina from those reaching claws. The creature paused, surprised by the interruption.
"You.. stop... me..."
My Shinzai exploded outward—the same chaotic flames that had destroyed the platform, but fiercer now, driven by desperate need to protect the only family I had left.
For one heartbeat, the creature actually stepped back.
Then it laughed.
"How... nostalgic..."
One clawed hand swept through my flames like morning mist. My fire—fire that had seemed so powerful—vanished without leaving a mark.
It reached past me toward Mina.
I grabbed its arm. Pain shot through my hands where they touched corrupted flesh—cold so intense it burned, draining warmth from my bones. The creature could have killed me instantly but seemed amused by my struggle.
"Point....less..."
Behind me, Mina whispered my name like a prayer.
The Akuma raised its free hand, claws gleaming with dark promise.
A dumpling bounced off the ground.
"Excuse me. You're interrupting my meal."
Fingers appeared around the creature's wrist—casual, relaxed, completely stopping its attack. The silver-haired man from the viewing area stood behind the Akuma, one hand holding his food box, the other restraining a monster.
He looked mildly annoyed.
"Corruption really does ruin table manners."
The creature's eyes widened with something that might have been recognition.
"You... But that's impossible—"
"What's impossible? Enjoying lunch in peace?"
Silver flashed.
The Akuma came apart in neat sections, black ichor pooling before steaming away to nothing.
Silence pressed down like a physical weight. A hundred people tried to process what they'd witnessed—an Akuma that spoke, planned, hunted with intelligence.
Everything we knew was wrong.
Then the impossible became miraculous.
The creature wasn't quite dead. With tremendous effort, it rolled onto what remained of its knees. Its ruined head turned toward me with fading ember eyes.
"For...give...ness... Young... mas...ter..."
Most people were too stunned to notice what happened next. But I saw it. The Academy officials saw it. The silver-haired warrior saw it.
The creature bowed.
Actually bowed, pressing its forehead to blood-soaked earth before my feet like a servant seeking forgiveness.
Then it crumbled to ash.
The silence that followed felt pregnant with implications no one wanted to voice.
"Weak technique," the silver-haired man said, studying me with eyes that gave away nothing. "But you didn't hesitate when it mattered."
His gaze flicked to the ash pile.
"That kind of instinct is rare. Someone should train you properly."
"Who are you?"
"Izuma. And you've got potential being wasted here." He turned toward the forest. "You want to protect people? Learn to control that power."
Then he vanished into the trees.
Mina grabbed my arm with shaking hands. "You saved me."
"I couldn't even hurt it."
"You tried. You didn't run." Her voice carried fierce certainty. "And that man thinks you can get stronger."
Questions burned in my chest hotter than any flame I'd ever produced.
Why had a creature that shouldn't possess intelligence called me master?
What had those officials seen that made them exchange meaningful looks while pretending nothing happened?
What had Izuma recognized in my pathetic heroism?
The answers lay beyond village borders, in a world I'd never dared imagine entering.
But for the first time in my life, I found myself looking toward that horizon not with fear, but with determination.
Something had awakened today. Not just in the world, but in me.
I was tired of being weak.
Maybe it was time to learn how to be strong.