Four months passed.

  Kanae was thirteen now, and the world had grown sharper at the edges.

  Morning arrived quietly. Pale sunlight slipped through the paper windows, painting thin bands of gold across the wooden floors. The light trembled over the polished grain, soft but persistent, brushing against the walls with patient insistence.

  Kanae lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Her body refused to sink back into sleep. Her muscles still ached from yesterday’s training, and her thoughts spun quietly, like autumn leaves caught in a slow current.

  After a long moment, she gave up on rest.

  Barefoot, she rose and wandered through the wide corridors of the mansion. The floors were cool beneath her feet—solid, unwavering, and real. The air was crisp, carrying the faint, clean scent of cedar and early dew. At this hour, the estate felt alive in a way that didn’t require voices—it breathed through the creak of wood and the whisper of the wind.

  As she turned a corner toward the main entrance, she stopped. Someone was standing there, silhouetted against the dawn.

  “…Reina?”

  The figure turned. Reina wasn’t wearing her usual training whites. Instead, she stood tall in a sleeveless, high-collared top of deep crimson, a zipper running cleanly down the front. Light piping traced the seams, accentuating the sharp, athletic lines of her form. The top extended into a short skirt layered over fitted dark shorts—practical, striking, and precise as a blade.

  From her waist hung a white ceremonial cloth marked by a bold circular emblem. A polished weapon rested at her side, silent and waiting.

  Kanae blinked, stunned by the transformation. “Reina…? Where are you going?”

  For a split second, Reina looked surprised. Then, her lips curved into a soft, confident smile. “I’m heading out,” she said.

  The weight in her voice made Kanae’s chest tighten. Small, anxious tremors curled through her ribs. “Out…? Like—like a mission?”

  Reina chuckled softly, the sound light and musical. “Not yet,” she replied. “A test.”

  Kanae frowned, her curiosity battling with a sudden surge of worry. “A test?”

  Footsteps echoed behind her—deliberate and precise. Kiyomi entered the hall, already dressed for the day. Her posture was a vertical line of authority, her expression unreadable but her presence commanding the entire space.

  “The qualification exam,” Kiyomi said, her voice carrying without effort through the morning air.

  “The trial to earn an official kunoichi rank.”

  Kanae stiffened. “An exam… for that?”

  Reina nodded, her eyes sharp and steady in the growing light. “I’ve trained long enough. It’s time to prove it.” She looked at Kanae then—really looked at her—her gaze softening just enough to be felt. “Wish me luck?”

  Kanae hesitated for only a second before she nodded, a small, earnest smile spreading across her face. “Good luck, Reina. I know you’ll pass. There's no one better.”

  Her words were small, yet they carried a warmth that lingered longer than the morning sun. Reina’s eyes warmed in return. “Thank you, Kanae.”

  The older girl turned and walked toward the gates. The red fabric of her outfit caught the rising sun, shimmering like sparks across the stone.

  Every step was measured and confident. And then, she was gone, disappearing beyond the walls and leaving only the faint whisper of the morning breeze behind.

  Kanae stood there long after Reina had vanished. Watching her leave, she felt something ignite deep in her chest.

  Fear. And admiration.

  Reina had walked forward without a single shadow of doubt. And in that moment, Kanae decided she would do the same. Step by step. Forward. Unflinching.

  The morning stretched endlessly before her. Each shadow seemed smaller now. Each beam of light felt stronger. She would move. She would rise. And nothing—no fear, no ghost of the past—would stop her.

  The months became a blur of rhythmic, beautiful violence and quiet study:

  Dawn: Kanae's sword slammed into wooden dummies until splinters scattered like snow across the yard.

  The Endless Technique: She practiced the forms alone in the moonlight, her movements becoming sharper, cleaner, and more lethal with every rotation.

  The Dojo: Karate drills repeated until her legs shook and sweat darkened the earth beneath her feet.

  The Library: Late nights spent over open books, her eyes tired but her mind focused like a lens.

  The School: Standing confidently in class, answering the teacher's questions without the slightest hesitation.

  The Bond: Running races in the forest, her laughter breaking through the physical strain as she raced Hanemi and Osaka.

  I worked harder, she thought. Not to prove anything to the world, but to silence the doubts screaming within me.

  Sword. Technique. Karate. School. Every day was a search for balance.

  From afar, Master Sato watched with her arms folded, her glasses catching the pale morning light. Beside her, Kiyomi stood in a silent vigil, her eyes following Kanae's every movement with quiet scrutiny.

  "She doesn't chase praise," Master Sato remarked quietly, her voice swallowed by the thrum of Kanae's practice.

  "She chases progress," Kiyomi replied.

  Kanae never noticed them. She was lost in the ritual. I choose discipline over pride. Humility over anger. Strength without cruelty.

  One evening, Kanae slowed in the corridor, her muscles heavy but satisfied. Raised voices spilled from behind a sliding door ahead-jagged, tense, and familiar.

  "I'm fifteen!" Amanai snapped, her voice sharp and strained. "Why can't I take the exam yet?!”

  Kiyomi's voice followed-calm, measured, and unyielding. "Because you are not ready."

  "That's not fair!"

  "Readiness is not a matter of age, Amanai," Kiyomi said firmly. "It is a matter of control."

  Kanae's pace faltered. The sliding door shifted, creaking as Amanai stormed out, her chest heaving and her eyes wild with frustration. The two girls froze, their gazes locking.

  Amanai's eyes narrowed into slits of pure venom. "Tch... freak."

  She shoved past Kanae, the word hanging in the air like acrid smoke. Kanae did not turn. She did not respond. She did not even flinch. Anger no longer had the power to move her. She had learned that the hard way.

  The corridor returned to silence. Kanae continued walking, her shoulders straight and her heart calm. Discipline was no longer a lesson she had to remember. It was her nature.

  And she carried it forward-silent, steady, and unshakable.

  Rain poured relentlessly over the estate, a grey curtain that turned the world into a blur of mist and shadow. Inside the dojo, the roar of the storm blended with the sharp, rhythmic crack of wood striking wood.

  Kanae and Kiyomi faced each other in the center of the mats.

  Kanae inhaled, the damp air filling her lungs. Then, she moved. Her footwork was precise, her body a masterpiece of controlled aggression. Karate flowed into sword movements seamlessly; each strike had lethal intent, and there was no longer any wasted motion.

  Kiyomi blocked-effortlessly, as she always did-but her eyes were alert now. She was no longer just a teacher; she was an opponent.

  Kanae surged forward, her mind cycling through the gates she had mastered.

  Comet Bullet.

  Blazing Fireworks.

  Tornado Dragon.

  The air shifted with each technique. Spin, strike, advance. The Endless Technique was no longer a desperate scramble; it was a dance. Kiyomi finally moved her feet, their wooden swords clashing with an echo that seemed to vibrate the very foundations of the building

  Kanae pressed harder. Rain hammered the roof like a thousand drums. Her breath came sharp and steady as her sodden clothes clung to her-heavy with sweat and mist. Her body screamed for rest, but she moved anyway. Phase after phase, her hips rotated and her shoulders flowed. Everything Kiyomi had carved into her over the years rose to the surface. Memory replaced doubt.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Kiyomi stood across from her, centered and unbreakable like a mountain. Her eyes followed every motion, sharp and unreadable.

  Not enough, Kanae whispered to herself.

  She shifted again-faster. She layered her attacks, feints masking her intent as the timing tightened like a drawn wire. Inside the dojo, the air felt thin, electric.

  Kiyomi deflected once. Twice. "Too slow," she said evenly, stepping aside with effortless precision.

  Kanae inhaled sharply and pushed into Phase Six. Her muscles burned and her vision trembled at the edges, but she didn't stop. She remembered every failure, every quiet "again" she had whispered in the dark. Mid-strike, she changed her angle.

  Kiyomi's eyes narrowed. For the first time in four years, the wooden blade touched her shoulder. It was barely a whisper of contact, a ghost of a hit.

  The dojo went still.

  Rain continued to howl outside, but inside, time froze. Kiyomi stepped back half a pace, her gaze flicking to the point of contact on her shoulder, then back to Kanae. Surprise crossed her face-not alarm, but a deep, quiet pride.

  Kanae stood trembling, breath tearing from her chest, rainwater dripping from her hair. "...I-"

  "You're ready," Kiyomi said softly.

  Kanae blinked, her vision clearing. "...Huh?"

  "You heard me," the mentor said, resting her wooden sword at her side. "You are fully ready for the Qualification Exam."

  The tension drained from Kanae's body all at once. She let out a long, shaky breath, and a small, real smile appeared on her face. "...Thank you, Sensei.”

  The storm softened into a gentle drizzle as they walked back through the mansion's corridors. Kiyomi led her into a private study and brought out a chalkboard. Her tone was no longer that of a teacher, but of a commander.

  "Kika-shu," she said, drawing a distorted, monstrous shape. "Demons are not stories, Kanae. And they are never harmless."

  She wrote a single word beneath the drawing: Kefūjutsu.

  "Blood-Wind Techniques," Kiyomi explained. "Used by the strongest Marechi demons. These powers aren't random. They are born from what the demon was as a human-their obsessions, their habits, their twisted self-image. What they were becomes the weapon they are.”

  Kanae swallowed. "So their humanity defines their monstrosity."

  "Precisely. To confirm a kill, you must collect evidence-an eye, a fragment, a Core shard." Kiyomi tapped the center of the chest on her drawing. "The Core is the nest. Destroy it, or the virus will simply rebuild them."

  Kiyomi wrote one final word: L.I.G.H.T.

  "The Exterminators," she said. "They are not our allies, but they are not our enemies. Follow protocol. Never interfere. Never assume they will save you. Be a ghost."

  Kiyomi met her eyes. "The exam lasts five weeks. You will travel through the heart of Japan: Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto, Yokohama, and Nagoya."

  She raised three fingers. "One confirmed kill makes you a Medic. Three makes you a Hunter." She paused, her voice dropping. "Assassin is rare. Five kills. Minimum five rescues. Solo-capable. If you fail, Kanae, there is no second chance."

  Kanae clenched her fists, her jaw setting.

  "I believe in you." Kiyomi placed a long, lacquered case before her. "Open it.”

  Inside lay a kiriha-zukuri katana. It was straight- bladed, finished in a striking red and black. It felt heavy-alive.

  "Your official kunoichi blade. Your uniform. Your tools. Go out there and earn your role," Kiyomi said. "Save humanity.”

  Before Kanae could turn to leave, Kiyomi reached into her sleeve, pulling out a small, soft bundle. "Wait. One last thing."

  She stepped closer, her expression softening for a fleeting second. "A kunoichi's path is shadow, but even shadows need a signature." She unfurled a white fabric headband, intricately embroidered with a small, sleek cat's head-pointed ears and delicate whiskers stitched in silver thread.

  Kiyomi reached up and tied it firmly around Kanae's forehead. "Let the white cat guide your steps. It's said they see what others miss." She gave the fabric a final, sharp tug of reassurance. "Now, go."

  Kanae stood at the doors, the new weight on her brow feeling like a silent promise.

  Silence.

  She drew a breath so deep it felt like swallowing fire. Her lungs burned, protesting the sudden strain, but she didn't care. She pivoted, boots kicking up a spray of gravel, and threw herself into the dark treeline flanking the tracks.

  The forest became a smear of emerald and shadow. Every branch that whipped her face was a reminder of her failure, but she pushed harder. To her left, the massive iron bulk of the train began to accelerate, its metallic shriek drowning out her own pulse.

  Kanae ran at the station, the city's iron pulse thrumming beneath her feet. She had missed her scheduled platform. The massive bulk of the train was already accelerating, its metallic shriek drowning out the world.

  The gap was widening.

  "Too late," she hissed, her voice hitching. "Damn it... not like this."

  The tail of the last carriage was slipping away into a blur of steam. Her legs felt like lead, but her hand drifted instinctively to the hilt at her waist. A desperate, suicidal gamble flashed through her mind.

  Endless Technique. Phase One: Comet Bullet.

  The world exploded.

  She didn't just run; she became a streak of red and black. With a violent CRASH, she leapt, her fingers catching the cold iron of the rear ladder. She hung there as the train roared into the tunnel, laughing shakily through the pain in her arms.

  "...I made it.”

  Inside the carriage, no one noticed the girl hanging from the back. She eventually slipped inside, sitting quietly in the back row with her sword hidden behind her. Outside the window, the world rushed past in a blur of neon and shadow.

  Am I ready? she whispered to herself.

  Her eyes steadied, reflecting the dark horizon. I'l find out.

  The train carried her forward into the unknown. And fate followed.

  The carriage shuddered under the strain of the engine’s furnace, the train hurtling toward Osaka like a runaway bolt of iron.

  Kanae remained motionless in her seat, her spine pressed lightly against the cold plastic, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused. Outside the window, the city blurred into a dizzying streak of steel, concrete, and passing neon-an indistinct painting sliding endlessly past.

  Her thoughts, however, refused to slow down.

  Osaka... The demons... The test. Five cities. Five weeks. Five kills.

  Each kill was a chance to prove she deserved to exist beyond the estate walls. Her fingers curled faintly against her thigh, the fabric of her new uniform rustling.

  "If I fail... I don't go back," she whispered to herself.

  "Excuse me."

  The voice barely registered.

  "Hey, kid."

  Nothing. Her mind sank further into the dark, spiraling through combat scenarios-ambushes in the dark, blades flashing in the rain, and blood pooling too fast to stop.

  "HEY!”

  the sharp shout cracked through the cabin like a snapped wire. Kanae jerked violently upright, her hand instinctively twitching toward the hidden blade at her back.

  "-Huh?!"

  A few passengers turned their heads. A woman nearby frowned; a man clicked his tongue in annoyance. Standing beside Kanae was the train conductor, her posture rigid and her brows knitted beneath her cap.

  "I've been calling you," the conductor said, irritation thick in her voice. "You asleep with your eyes open or something?"

  Kanae straightened immediately, her shoulders squaring. "S-sorry. I-was thinking."

  "Thinking," the conductor repeated flatly. She extended a gloved hand. "Ticket."

  Kanae blinked. "... Ticket?"

  "Yes," the conductor said, unmoved. "Your ticket.”

  The word hit harder than a physical blow. Kanae's blood ran cold. Slowly-far too slowly-she reached into her bag. Her fingers brushed against fabric, feeling the weapons carefully wrapped and the supplies packed with surgical precision.

  No ticket.

  She dug deeper. Nothing. Her chest tightened as the realization landed with crushing weight.

  I forgot.

  In her desperate leap to catch the train, she had bypassed the gates. Her hand emerged from the bag empty, her fingers trembling despite her effort to steady them.

  "I..." her voice faltered. "...I don't have one."

  The hum of the train grew louder in Kanae's ears as the silence stretched uncomfortably.

  "You don't have one," the conductor repeated.

  Kanae shook her head quickly. "I-I was in a hurry. I forgot to buy it. I didn't mean to-”

  The conductor didn't interrupt. Instead, she studied Kanae closely-noting her disciplined stillness and the unusual, high-quality cut of her clothes. She didn't look like a delinquent or a thief. She just looked... strange.

  After a long moment, the conductor sighed. "...Then pay in yen. Same price."

  Kanae nodded immediately, relief flooding her face. "Y-yes." She reached into her bag and pulled out a folded bill-one of the large notes Kiyomi had given her. She held it out. "Will this work? I don't have any change."

  The conductor blinked, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "... You kids. I can't take large notes onboard."

  Kanae's heart sank. "I-I can-"

  The conductor raised a hand sharply. "Listen. When we arrive, you go straight to the counter. You pay there. You do not leave the station without paying. Understood?"

  Kanae nodded without hesitation. "Yes. I understand. I promise.”

  "Don't make a habit of this." The conductor moved down the aisle, her voice returning to its professional drone.

  Kanae leaned back into her seat, exhaling a long, shaky breath. "...That was close."

  She subtly adjusted the strap on her back, ensuring the hilt of the katana remained hidden beneath her jacket. The weight was a reassuring pressure. I need to be more careful. Demons don't hide in crowds. They wait in the places humans avoid. Underground paths. Abandoned buildings. Shadowed alleys.

  What kind of powers will they use? she wondered. Ambush? Poison? Overwhelming force? I can't rush. One mistake is death.

  The rhythmic clatter of the tracks eventually dulled her thoughts, and despite her vigilance, her eyes drifted shut.

  CLANG-WHOOOOOM.

  Kanae snapped awake as the train whistle blew, the brakes shrieking against the steel rails.

  Osaka.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. She stood quickly, shouldering her bag as passengers poured toward the doors. The moment she stepped onto the platform, the warm city air engulfed her-thick with noise, movement, and the smell of ozone.

  Her eyes immediately locked onto the ticket counter —and then she froze.

  Security.

  Uniformed guards stood near the exits, scanning bags and stopping passengers with sharp, alert eyes. Kanae swallowed hard. They're checking everyone. If they see the sword...

  She turned casually, changing direction as if she were simply a confused tourist. She kept her pace normal, her steps calm. She was almost clear when a voice boomed from behind.

  "Hey! YOU-STOP!"

  Kanae didn't look back. Her walk became a jog. Then a sprint.

  "STOP RIGHT THERE!”

  She plunged into the crowd, weaving between bodies like a ghost. "Sorry-excuse me-!" she muttered, ducking past shoulders and slipping through gaps.

  Footsteps thundered behind her. "Security! Stop running!"

  She saw it-a large dumpster near a service corridor. Without slowing, Kanae dove behind it, sliding low and silent into the shadows just as the guards rushed past.

  "Where'd she go?!"

  "She was just here! Don't let her get away!"

  Kanae pressed herself against the cold metal, her breath locked in her chest and her heart pounding violently. One second. Two. The voices faded. The footsteps disappeared.

  Only then did she allow herself to breathe. "...That was close."

  She started to step out, then stopped. Resting neatly atop a box inside the dumpster was a white hooded jacket. It was clean and seemingly brand new. She lifted it carefully.

  "...Maybe it's my lucky day.”

  She slipped it on, pulling the hood low. The oversized fabric hung perfectly, making the silhouette of her sword disappear completely.

  "This will work," she whispered. "Blend in. Disappear."

  With measured steps, Kanae exited the station. Osaka unfolded before her-a canyon of skyscrapers and neon signs that glowed even in the daylight.

  "...So this is Osaka."

  She checked the time. 3:00 PM.

  "...Alright," she murmured, her eyes scanning the streets with a new, lethal focus. "First step: Information. Observation. Patience."

  She stepped forward, her hood low and her presence fading into the urban rush. Osaka didn't notice her. But fate already had.

  Kanae moved through the city at a measured, deliberate pace, her boots tapping softly against the pavement in quiet contrast to Osaka's restless energy.

  People were everywhere.

  Office workers hurried past her with phones pressed to their ears, their voices tense and clipped. Couples laughed openly, their hands brushing as they walked. Children tugged at their parents' sleeves, pointing excitedly at shop windows glowing with neon color.

  The streets were alive. Ramen stalls released thick clouds of steam that carried the scent of rich broth and spice. Convenience store doors slid open and shut with cheerful electronic chimes.

  Kanae's eyes never stopped moving. So many people, she thought. So many lives.

  She reached up, adjusting her white hood just enough to keep her face in shadow. She lowered her chin, blending into the current of bodies moving around her like a ghost in a river. This place feels alive... too alive, she whispered to herself.

  As she rounded a corner, her steps slowed instinctively. Up ahead, she spotted two familiar uniforms.

  Security.

  Kanae's body reacted before her mind finished processing. She shifted smoothly behind a tall vending machine, pressing her back against the cool metal. Carefully, she leaned just enough to peek around its edge. The same guards from the station stood several meters away, speaking with two police officers. One of the guards gestured animatedly, clearly agitated.

  "She was about this tall," the guard said, holding a hand at chest level. "Black clothing. Young. She had something long on her back-could've been a weapon."

  Kanae's jaw tightened. They're describing me. I need to be more careful.

  She inhaled slowly through her nose, then exhaled, forcing her racing heart to settle. Don't panic, she told herself. Tugging the hood lower until shadow swallowed her features, she merged back into the steady flow of pedestrians. No sudden movements. No hesitation.

  As she walked, her lips moved faintly, the words barely audible. "Stay calm... stay careful... don't forget why you're here." Her hand brushed against the hidden strap of her sword beneath the jacket.

  Purpose first.

  The city noise dulled at the edges as her thoughts sharpened. Where would a Kika-shu hide in a place like this? Underground passages? Abandoned buildings? Maybe somewhere close to people... but staying unseen...

  Suddenly-

  "MOMO! Momo! Where are you?!"

  The shout shattered Kanae's focus. She turned toward the voice. Across the street, a middle-aged man stood outside a small sushi shop. An apron was tied tightly around his waist and his sleeves were rolled up. His eyes darted left and right, panic written clearly across his face.

  "Momo! Come on, girl!"

  Kanae hesitated, watching the man drag a hand through his hair. Frustration and fear twisted his expression. She stepped closer.

  "Excuse me.”

  The shop owner spun around sharply. "Ah- yes?"

  "...Is something wrong?" Kanae asked.

  The man let out a heavy breath, his shoulders sagging. "My cat. Momo. She ran off earlier. She never goes far, but..." He glanced down the street again, his voice cracking. "I can't find her anywhere. I should've kept the door closed... She's all I've got left here."

  Something in Kanae's expression softened-just slightly.

  "Maybe... I can help," she said simply.

  The man blinked. "You can? How?"

  "I'm good at finding things," she replied.

  The shop owner stared at her, then let out a weak, almost disbelieving laugh. "You're serious? You don't even know what she looks like."

  "Can you describe her?" Kanae asked calmly.

  The man hesitated, then answered quickly, hope creeping into his voice. "Small. White fur. A little grey near the ears. Green eyes. She limps slightly on her back leg.”

  Kanae nodded once. Without another word, she crouched down, her fingers brushing lightly against the pavement. Her eyes sharpened, scanning the sidewalk with an intensity that made the shop owner flinch.

  "Uh... what are you—"

  Kanae's gaze snapped to a faint cluster near the curb. "...There.”

  "Eh?"

  Thin strands of white fur clung to the rough concrete, barely noticeable to anyone else. Kanae stood, never taking her eyes off the ground, following the trail step by step.

  "Wait-hey!" the owner called, scratching the back of his head in total confusion.

  Kanae moved onto the zebra crossing, her eyes locked on the fading trail. Cars screeched to a halt as she crossed.

  "HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!"

  "What's wrong with that kid?!"

  Kanae didn't flinch. "...This way," she murmured quietly.

  Pedestrians slowed, whispering among themselves. "Is she okay?" "Why's she staring at the ground like that?”

  She followed the thinning trail through narrow side streets, past benches, and past a small playground until the trail stopped at the edge of a park. Kanae finally lifted her head. Her eyes scanned the area- the trees, the dense bushes, and the quiet spaces beneath the benches where people rarely looked twice.

  "...Alright," she whispered.

  She closed her eyes briefly, imagining herself small, scared, and limping away from the noise. If I were scared... hurt... and small... I'd hide where no one looks. Somewhere quiet.

  Her eyes narrowed as she opened them again. She spotted a dense thicket of bushes near a stone monument.

  "There," she whispered, her presence fading as she moved toward the shadows.

  ?That’s the end of Chapter 6! We finally saw Kanae step beyond the compound walls, armed with Kiyomi’s blessing, a new crimson blade, and the "White Cat" headband.

  ?But as we saw on the train to Osaka, the "real world" is a battlefield Kanae isn't quite ready for yet! Between the awkward run-in with the conductor and the high-speed evasion of station security, she is learning that blending in is just as hard as the Endless Technique.

  ?The mission truly begins in Chapter 7, but not in the way she expected. Instead of hunting demons, she's hunting... a lost cat? Kanae is applying her lethal tracking skills to find "Momo," but in a city as dense and shadowed as Osaka, even a simple favor can lead to unexpected danger.

  ?If you're enjoying Kanae’s journey into the urban jungle, please consider Following the story and leaving a Rating or Review! Your support is what helps us climb the Rising Stars list!