The journey had been long, but when Akira and Master Ryoko finally reached the foot of Mount Timboku, Akira stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw went slack, and his whole body froze as he looked up at the towering mountain. The peak was wrapped in thick black smoke that coiled into the sky like some endless serpent. The air was thick with sulfur, heavy enough that every breath stung his lungs. Heat radiated off the ground itself, making the rocks shimmer and warp in the distance. "W-woah," Akira muttered, wiping the sweat already running down his forehead. "Sensei, are you sure you didn't mistake this for the gates of the underworld?"
Master Ryoko, his Kusarigama dangling loosely at his side, didn't even smirk. His face was unreadable, calm as if the scorching air didn't bother him in the slightest. "This is your crucible, Akira. If you can endure Mount Timboku, you can endure anything. If you can survive this, then you will become more than a ninja, you will become fire itself." Akira let out a nervous laugh. "Right. Fire itself. Totally sounds better than barbequed student." The path they followed wound higher up the mountain, past jagged cliffs and small vents of steam that hissed as though the earth was alive. Soon, they reached a clearing where the ground opened into a natural stone basin filled with a steaming pool. The water wasn't the deep blue of a normal spring, it glowed faintly, like molten glass, shimmering with a dangerous red hue beneath the surface. Steam rose in heavy curtains, burning Akira's eyes just to look at it. The heat rolling off the pool was suffocating. It was like standing in front of an open forge. Akira staggered back a step. "You…you want me to swim in that?!" Ryoko's voice was calm, almost cold. "Eighty-five degrees Celsius, it can also mean "hotter than boiling tea" for someone like you. For two hours. That is your first trial." Akira's eyes bulged. "Sensei, do you realize how insane that is? That's hotter than…than…hot ramen water! People don't swim in ramen water! They eat it!" Ryoko turned his head slightly, one dark brow raising. "Do you wish to be an ordinary ninja? Or do you wish to rise above?" Akira swallowed hard. "I'd rather rise above without boiling alive…" But despite his words, he tugged off his outer robe, stripping down to his training gear. His arms trembled, but not from fear, he knew there was no way out.
Master Ryoko pulled a small timepiece from his pocket, its ticking faint against the crackling mountain air. "Two hours," he repeated. "I will not stop you. If you give up, you fail. If you endure, you grow." Akira muttered under his breath as he approached the pool, the heat blasting his skin even before he touched the surface. "I must've done something terrible in a past life…" Then he dove in. The moment his body hit the water, every nerve screamed. His skin burned as though wrapped in fire. His lungs spasmed. His muscles seized. He thrashed wildly, a strangled yell bubbling up into steam before he forced himself to kick toward the center. It was worse than he could have imagined. The heat invaded his body through every pore. It felt like knives of flame stabbing under his skin. On the shore, Ryoko's voice cut through the haze of pain. "Control your breathing, Akira. Panic wastes energy. Endurance comes from the mind before the body." Akira coughed, sputtered, and forced himself onto his back, floating. "Easy for you to say…you're not the one being slow-cooked!" Minutes crawled like hours. Akira's vision blurred with steam. His body wanted to shut down, to give in, to climb out of the torture pool. But each time he faltered, Ryoko's sharp voice lashed at him like the chains of his Kusarigama. "Do not surrender!" "Still your mind, or the heat will own you!" "Remember why you fight, Akira!"
His thoughts swirled, muddled by pain "if I fail Master Ryoko, I will not be a Ninja. I have to do everything in my power to make sure I become one". He saw flashes of his friends, of Hana's determination, of Diago's strength. He couldn't be left behind. He couldn't let them move forward without him. His arms stopped thrashing. He stilled himself, letting the water's pressure wrap around him. Every second was agony, but slowly and slowly, he began to breathe in rhythm. One hour passed. Ryoko watched silently, unmoving. At one hour and thirty minutes, Akira's lips were cracked, his muscles twitching uncontrollably. He whispered to himself through clenched teeth, trying to laugh despite the pain. "I… am officially… a boiled dumpling." At exactly two hours, Ryoko snapped his watch shut. "Enough. Out!"
Akira dragged himself to the edge, arms shaking so violently he almost slipped. When he finally collapsed onto the hot rocks, steam rolled off his body like smoke. He lay there, gasping, his skin red and raw. Ryoko crouched beside him, expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he nodded once. "Not bad." Akira groaned, rolling his eyes up at him. "Not bad? Sensei, I just got turned into soup! You could at least say, 'Well done.'" Ryoko's lips twitched, barely. Almost a smile. "You're not well done yet. Tomorrow, you last three hours." Akira's face dropped. "…Three?!" The laugh that bubbled from his chest was half hysterical, half determined. Even in his pain, he knew he would be back in that pool tomorrow.
The second morning on Mount Timboku began with ash drifting from the volcano like dark snow. Akira woke up groaning, every muscle sore from the torture of yesterday's training. His skin still tingled, raw as if sunburnt. He sat up on the stone floor of their temporary camp, clutching his stomach. "Tell me… tell me I just had the worst dream of my life," he muttered, voice hoarse. Master Ryoko was already awake, sharpening the sickle of his Kusarigama with slow, deliberate strokes. Sparks flickered each time the blade kissed the stone. "If you dreamt of becoming stronger, then yes," Ryoko said without looking up, "it was no dream. Eat. You will need strength." Akira flopped back dramatically. "Sensei, I think my strength packed its bags and left me yesterday." Master Ryoko rose, his expression calm, but the faintest twitch in his lip betrayed amusement. "Then we will hunt it down and bring it back. Today, three hours." Akira groaned so loudly it echoed. "You're a monster." But despite his complaints, he ate, hydrated, and followed his master back to the steaming pool. The water hissed angrily as if it knew he was coming back for more. When he slid in this time, it was agony, but his body, strangely, adjusted faster. The pain still lanced through him, but he had learned not to fight it wildly. He floated, closed his eyes, and tried to still his thoughts. He counted breaths. He imagined flames wrapping around him not to burn him, but to shield him.
Minutes became an hour. Then two. At two and a half, his body shook uncontrollably. At two hours and forty-five minutes, his mind screamed to get out. Ryoko's voice cut through the steam. "Do not think of time. Think of survival." Akira forced a grin despite his chattering teeth. "Oh, I'm surviving, all right. Just slowly… becoming soup stock…" The joke steadied him. It gave him something to hold onto. When Ryoko finally called him out after three full hours, Akira dragged himself onto the rocks again, this time laughing through his pain. "Three hours…! Still alive…! You can't kill me that easily, Sensei!" Ryoko stood over him. "Tomorrow, four." Akira's face fell. "…Maybe you can kill me that easily."