The fourth day of solo training brought the first real breakthrough.
I stood in the forest clearing as dawn light filtered through the canopy, three flame threads dancing in the air around my hands. They wavered occasionally when my concentration slipped, but they held their shape for nearly thirty seconds before dissolving.
Progress. Real, measurable progress.
"Not bad, big brother."
I spun around to find Mina sitting on a fallen log at the edge of the clearing, chin propped on her hands with that infuriatingly knowing expression.
"How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to see you make fire dance like it's alive." She stood and walked closer, studying the fading wisps of smoke where my threads had been. "That's not normal village training, is it?"
My heart hammered against my ribs. "Mina—"
"I'm not going to tell anyone." Her voice was quiet but firm. "I'm not stupid, Kaito. You've been sneaking out every morning, coming back exhausted and smelling like smoke. Someone taught you something, didn't they?"
I stared at my little sister, seven years old and too perceptive for anyone's good. "How did you even find me?"
"I followed you. Yesterday and today." She shrugged like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You're not as sneaky as you think."
"It's dangerous, Mina. If people knew—"
"Then I won't tell anyone." She stepped closer, grabbing my hands with her small fingers. "But I'm not going to pretend I don't see you're worried about something. The other kids have been talking weird about you."
"What do you mean?"
"Some of them think you're cursed after what happened at the trial. They're scared of you." Her expression grew worried. "And yesterday, I saw Captain Hayato asking Elder Tanaka questions about our family."
A chill ran down my spine. "What kind of questions?"
"About our parents. About whether you'd ever done strange things before." She squeezed my hands tighter. "Kaito, I don't understand what's happening, but people are looking at you differently."
I looked down at my sister's face, so serious despite her young age, and felt the weight of secrets pressing against my chest.
"I don't really understand it either," I said honestly. "But someone taught me how to protect myself better, just in case." I gestured toward where the flame threads had been. "That's what you saw."
"Can you teach me?"
"Absolutely not."
"But if these things come back—"
"No, Mina. You're seven years old, and this is already dangerous enough." I pulled my hands free and started walking back toward the village. "Promise me you won't follow me again. And promise you won't tell anyone what you saw."
"I promise." She hurried to catch up. "But Kaito? You'd tell me if something really bad was going to happen, right?"
"I promise."
But as we walked home together, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was lying to both of us.
The village felt different over the next two days. Conversations stopped when I walked by. Some of the other trial candidates avoided eye contact, while others stared with barely concealed curiosity. Even the adults seemed to watch me more carefully, like they were waiting for something unusual to happen.
"Did you hear about the Westbrook incident?" I overheard one of the guards saying as I passed the market square.
"Another intelligent one?"
"Three of them, working together. They laid an ambush for a merchant caravan, using terrain advantages and coordinated attacks." The first guard's voice dropped. "The survivors said they communicated with each other. Not just sounds—actual words."
"That's the fifth confirmed case this month."
"And they're getting bolder. Closer to populated areas."
I pretended to examine vegetables at a nearby stall while listening to their conversation.
"You think it's connected to what happened here? With the Hayashi boy?"
My blood turned to ice.
"Could be. Academy investigators are supposed to arrive next week to interview witnesses." The second guard glanced around nervously. "I heard they're particularly interested in anyone who had direct contact with the creature."
Direct contact. Like grabbing its arm to protect my sister. Like being called master.
I bought some apples I didn't need and hurried home, the guards' words echoing in my head. Academy investigators. Here to ask questions about what had happened. About me.
The warnings I'd received suddenly seemed a lot more urgent.
The next afternoon, Mina dragged me back to the library, claiming she wanted to research more about the different regions before my trial. But I suspected she had other motives.
"Kaito! Mina!" Yuki greeted us with her usual enthusiasm. "Perfect timing. I found something yesterday that I think you'll find fascinating."
She led us to a table where an ancient book lay open, its pages yellow with age and covered in intricate illustrations. The binding was unlike anything I'd seen before—dark leather with symbols that seemed to shift when I wasn't looking directly at them.
"This is one of the oldest volumes in our collection," Elder Sato explained, approaching with careful steps. "It dates back nearly a thousand years, from the time of the Great Sundering."
"The Great Sundering?" I asked.
"The catastrophic war that reshaped our world," Yuki said, her voice carrying the reverence reserved for truly ancient history. "Most people only know fragments of the story, but this book contains one of the most complete accounts."
She turned to a page filled with detailed illustrations of battles between figures wreathed in impossible energies. "A thousand years ago, the world was very different. There were no separate regions, no Academy system. Everything was united under what historians call the Divine Empire."
"What happened to it?"
"Corruption." Elder Sato's voice grew grave. "Something dark began spreading through the empire, turning people and places into twisted versions of themselves. The early form of what we now call Akuma corruption, but far more virulent and intelligent."
My attention sharpened. "Intelligent corruption?"
"The corrupted retained their memories, their skills, their ability to plan and coordinate." Yuki traced her finger along an illustration showing armies of twisted figures marching in perfect formation. "They weren't mindless beasts—they were organized, led by powerful beings who commanded vast forces."
"How was it stopped?"
"The accounts are unclear," she admitted, flipping through several pages. "There are references to great battles, legendary figures who fought against the corruption, but most of the details were lost when the empire fell." She pointed to a faded illustration showing two massive figures locked in combat. "What we do know is that eventually, the corruption was sealed away through some great sacrifice."
"And the corruption?"
"Reduced to the mindless Akuma we occasionally encounter now. Dangerous, but lacking the intelligence and coordination that nearly destroyed civilization." Elder Sato adjusted his spectacles. "Though recent reports suggest..."
"That the corruption might be evolving again," I finished.
"Exactly. Some scholars theorize that whatever seal was created is weakening, allowing fragments of the original intelligence to seep through." Yuki's expression grew troubled. "If that's true, then we might be seeing the early stages of another catastrophic uprising."
Mina, who had been quietly looking at the pictures, suddenly spoke up. "The people who stopped it before—what happened to them?"
"Most of the records were destroyed or lost," Elder Sato said sadly. "We know there were heroes who fought against the corruption, but their names and fates are largely unknown. Some accounts suggest they paid a terrible price for their victory."
"Is there anything about how they fought?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. "The kinds of techniques they used?"
"Very little survived," Yuki admitted. "Most of the specific knowledge was deliberately destroyed, presumably to prevent anyone from accidentally unleashing such dangerous forces again." She flipped through several pages of damaged diagrams. "There are fragments—references to techniques that could manipulate fundamental forces—but nothing complete enough to understand."
"Probably for the best," Elder Sato said firmly. "Some knowledge is too dangerous to preserve."
As we continued reading through the ancient accounts, I found myself drawn to the illustrations of that distant war. The figures wielding impossible power, the armies of corruption, the final battle that had somehow saved the world.
It felt important somehow, though I couldn't say why.
When we finally left the library, my head was spinning with half-formed thoughts about ancient wars and modern mysteries.
"That was scary," Mina said as we walked home. "All those monsters and fighting."
"It was a long time ago," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "A thousand years. It's just history now."
"But what if it happens again? What if those smart Akuma are the beginning of something really bad?"
I didn't have a good answer for that. The same thought had been building in my mind, but hearing it from my seven-year-old sister made it more real somehow.
"Then people will figure out how to stop it again," I said finally. "Just like they did before."
"I hope so."
The Academy Trial was tomorrow. In less than twenty-four hours, I'd be standing in front of officials who might already suspect I was more than I appeared. Officials who were investigating intelligent Akuma attacks and looking for connections they couldn't understand.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, ancient illustrations of battles and corruption seemed to whisper that this was all connected somehow—the intelligent Akuma, my strange encounter at the trial, even the techniques I'd been taught in secret.
But those were just paranoid thoughts from a nervous village boy, right?
Right?
That night, as I lay in bed listening to Mina's quiet breathing, I thought about ancient legends and modern mysteries. About corruption that remembered and techniques that couldn't be taught openly. About the strange warmth in my chest that pulsed like a second heartbeat whenever I used my power.
Tomorrow would bring answers to some questions, I was sure.
I just hoped I was ready for what those answers might reveal.