By the third day, the mountain itself seemed to test him. Ash fell thicker, coating his hair and face. The heat in the air felt heavier, like a constant invisible hand pressing down. When Ryoko ordered him into the pool again, Akira didn't resist. His body screamed with every passing second, but his spirit was different now. His mind no longer broke at the thought of hours ahead. He simply endured. At three hours and forty minutes, his arms stopped responding. His vision blurred. "Four hours!" Ryoko's voice rang like a bell. "Now, out!" Akira clawed his way to the rocks, collapsed, and lay there with a wild grin. His chest heaved like a bellows. "Four… hot… hours. Sensei… I'm fireproof!" Ryoko crouched beside him, eyes steady. "Not fireproof. Fire-forged. Now, we move to the next stage." Akira blinked weakly. "Next… stage? You mean there's worse?"
That evening, Ryoko led Akira up a winding path toward the heart of the volcano. The air grew hotter with every step until it felt like breathing fire. The rocks glowed faintly underfoot, and the roar of bubbling magma echoed like a living beast. At last, they reached a cavernous chamber where a river of molten lava flowed lazily, its surface bubbling with bursts of flame. The heat was indescribable, it pressed into Akira's chest, threatened to steal the air from his lungs. His skin prickled, sweat dripping instantly the moment it formed. "Here," Ryoko said. "Your training is no longer only endurance. Now, discipline. Strength. Focus. If your body falters, the lava will claim you." Akira stared at the molten river, then at Master Ryoko. "Sensei, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kind of attached to not being roasted alive." Master Ryoko's eyes hardened. "Then stay strong. Push-ups. Sit-ups. Pull-ups. Until I tell you to stop." Akira groaned, but dropped to the hot stone floor. The push-ups were immediate torture. The heat from the ground burned his palms. The air scorched his lungs. Sweat poured off him faster than he could blink. "One!" Ryoko counted sharply. "Two! Three!"
Akira grunted, gasped, and cursed under his breath, but he kept moving. Minutes bled into hours. Push-ups became sit-ups, sit-ups became pull-ups on a jagged outcropping of rock above the lava flow. His hands blistered, his muscles screamed, and his vision swam. Still, Ryoko's voice never softened. "You are fire-forged! Do not falter!" By the time Ryoko finally commanded him to stop, Akira collapsed face-first to the stone, chest heaving, body drenched in sweat. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his skin red as flame. "Sensei…" he wheezed. "You're… trying to kill me." Master Ryoko crouched again, his Kusarigama glinting in the glow of lava. For the first time, he allowed the faintest smirk. "If I were trying to kill you, Akira… you'd already be dead." Akira let out a weak laugh, the sound half delirious but filled with stubborn pride. Despite the pain, despite the heat, despite everything, he was still standing…..or at least, lying down. But alive.
The fourth dawn came with a sky painted crimson, as though the volcano itself had smeared its fire across the heavens. Ash rained heavier than before, coating everything in a dull gray blanket. For Akira, the world had begun to feel like one long haze of heat, sweat, and pain. He sat cross-legged outside the cavern, eyes half-lidded, trying to steady his breath. His body ached everywhere, every muscle throbbed, his skin burned constantly, and yet… somewhere deep inside, something had shifted. The heat no longer felt like a wall crushing him. It felt alive. Breathing. Like it was testing him. Master Ryoko emerged from the cavern, his Kusarigama coiled at his side. "You are changing," he said simply. Akira cracked one eye open. "Changing… or melting? Master Ryoko ignored the joke. "Your body is learning. But your mind is not yet ready. Endurance without control is chaos. Today, you will learn stillness." Akira raised a brow. "Stillness? In here? Sensei, my sweat is sweating. If I sit still too long, I'll fry." "Exactly." Ryoko's tone was sharp as steel. "The body screams, the heat consumes, but the mind must not bend. Sit at the lava's edge. Do not move. Do not fidget. Do not speak. You will stay until I release you."
Akira groaned, but followed. Inside the cavern, the lava glowed brighter today, flowing like liquid fire. He sat cross-legged on a narrow ledge beside it, the heat blasting him in waves so strong it stung his eyes. The first few minutes were agony. His instinct screamed at him to shift, scratch, wipe his dripping sweat. His chest felt tight, lungs clawing for cool air that didn't exist. Don't move. Don't speak. He focused on his breath. In. Out. He tried to imagine water, rivers, oceans. He thought of rain falling on rooftops, of streams trickling through the academy courtyard. Minutes turned into what felt like hours. At one point, a droplet of molten stone popped from the lava and sizzled on the rock inches from his knee. Akira flinched but forced himself still. When Ryoko finally spoke, his voice cut through like thunder. "Enough." Akira slumped backward, gasping. "That… was worse than four hours in the soup pot." Ryoko tilted his head. "And yet, you endured."
That night, Master Ryoko's training took a sharper turn. He led Akira into another chamber where the ceiling opened to the night sky. Ash drifted like snow in the moonlight. The air was still heavy with heat, but not as suffocating as the lava cavern. "Your endurance grows," Ryoko said, uncoiling his Kusarigama. The sickle glinted in the moonlight, and the weighted chain rattled like a serpent. "But you are not ready to face true battle. Endurance means nothing if you cannot remain aware under pressure. Tonight, you fight me without any weapon." Akira's eyes widened. "F-Fight you?! Sensei, I can barely stand without wobbling! You've got a Kusarigama, I've got" He glanced at his own empty hands. "…..sweaty palms and a death wish." Master Ryoko's chain snapped against the ground with a crack. "Then survive." Before Akira could argue, the chain lashed forward. Akira barely rolled aside before the weight smashed into the rock where his head had been. Dust and fragments exploded. "Hey! You're actually trying to kill me!" Akira shouted. "Wrong," Ryoko's voice was calm as he swung the sickle next, the blade singing through the air. "I am trying to teach you to live."
The fight became a storm of motion. The Kusarigama was merciless, chains whipping unpredictably, the sickle flashing like lightning. Akira scrambled, ducked, rolled, sweat flying from his brow. Every movement was clumsy, born of desperation but as the fight dragged on, something clicked. He stopped panicking. His eyes sharpened. The heat, the exhaustion, the pain, they all blended into background noise. He began to see Ryoko's rhythm. The shift of his shoulder before a strike, the way the chain curved mid-air, the faint whistle of the sickle before it fell. When the chain whipped again, Akira sidestepped with precision. When the sickle slashed, he leaned back just enough. His movements grew smaller, sharper, efficient. For a brief moment, he even laughed breathlessly. "Ha! Missed me!" Master Ryoko's lips curved faintly. "Good. You are learning to fight in fire."
The spar dragged until Akira's body gave out. His knees buckled, his arms shook uncontrollably, and he collapsed flat on his back, chest heaving like he'd run a thousand miles. Master Ryoko stood over him, Kusarigama poised, but did not strike. Instead, he retracted the chain with one smooth motion and rested the sickle at his side. "You are not ready," Ryoko said. "But you are no longer the boy who entered the pool. You have felt the fire. You have lived in it. Now you must learn to become it." Akira groaned, half-dead on the floor. "Sensei… can't I just… become soup instead?" For once, Ryoko allowed himself a short laugh. Just one. Quick. But real. And in that laugh, Akira knew, despite the pain, despite the madness of this mountain, he was on the right path.