The air in the Ashenfang Clan compound was thick with tension and the sharp scent of ozone. Somewhere in the distance, training dummies exploded in bursts of smoke, lightning crackling from a reckless direction.
"Kakari! Slow down! You're going to burn the field again!" his little sister yelled, peeking from behind a tree.
But Kakari wasn't listening. His breath was ragged, his arms trembling, and his eyes — deep black irises glowing faintly with streaks of violet — were fixated on the mark ahead. A small orb of unstable energy, pulsing with dark purple light, floated between his hands.
Then, like a flickering candle, it died.
"Tch… again," he muttered.
He wasn't alone. Standing far off on a raised wooden balcony was a man cloaked in a storm-colored haori with lazy eyes, spiky hair, and a permanent smirk. This was their sensei — Ranzaki. A master of basic elemental arts, Ranzaki was known more for his carefree stupidity than skill. But when he stepped into battle, he became an entirely different beast.
Ranzaki yawned. "You're trying to force it, dumbass. The Voidstorm Orb won't form just because you glare at it hard enough."
Kakari gritted his teeth. His training with the Raikōgan, the mystical eyes of his clan, was slow and frustrating. His older brother, Reijaku, had mastered multiple techniques already — distortion, powerful illusions, even a true Voidstorm projectile. Kakari, on the other hand, could barely keep up with the illusions. His SEU reading flickered in and out, and sometimes he forgot to even activate the eyes.
"Focus less on power, more on rhythm. The storm's not about rage — it's about timing," Ranzaki added, flicking a stone that hit Kakari in the forehead.
"Ow—! Are you serious?!" Kakari growled.
His sister giggled behind the tree. "You always fall for that."
Nearby, Kakari's grandparents — both alive and strong despite their age — watched with quiet approval. His mother stood beside them, arms crossed, eyes gentle but fierce. His older brother, Reijaku, leaned against a post, arms folded, his Raikōgan active and glowing.
"You've got potential," Reijaku said. "But your illusions are garbage. And your SEU read last night told me I had 2000 energy units. 2000? bro seriously? I'm at 7600."
Kakari glared. "Shut up."
Their rivalry was well-known. Reijaku was loved and respected in the clan, a prodigy. Kakari? The storm still forming. But his little sister, Kana, often teased him into laughter, never letting his frustration take over. Her calm, gentle mockery helped keep Kakari grounded.
Later that evening, Raijiro, Seijun, Ayame, and Reika arrived at the training field. They had all returned from personal drills with their own clans or mentors. Ranzaki gathered them all.
"Tomorrow, we leave the compound. You've all been approved to assist with your first guided mission," he said, stretching.
Ayame brushed a strand of black hair behind her ear. "You sure they're ready?" she said, nodding toward Kakari.
Seijun grinned, staff over her shoulder. "He's got fire. I mean—lightning. Just needs to aim it better."
Reika snorted, creating a tiny water bubble in his palm. "At least he's not burning his eyebrows off anymore."
Ranzaki chuckled. "Don't get too cocky, kids. You're walking into real territory soon. And Kakari — get your Raikōgan in shape. Or you're not gonna survive what's coming."
Kakari looked up at the sky.
"I'll get there."
The black lightning inside him began to hum.
And the storm was far from over.
Current Abilities of Kakari's Raikōgan:
SEU Reading: Sees a person's Soul Energy Units (inaccurate, still learning)
Storm Mirage: Short illusions (1-2 sec max), single target, good for distraction
Instinct Dodge: Early form of advanced evasion, not fully reliable
Training Goals:
Voidstorm Orb: A condensed black/purple bomb-like blast made from raw SE and his unique Art
Dimensional Distortion: A high-level space-bending dodge technique (hasn't triggered it yet)
Kakari's Family:
Mother: Alive, strong, and supportive
Older Brother Reijaku: Master of Raikōgan, respected, rival to Kakari
Little Sister Kana: Playful, teasing, grounding presence
Both sets of grandparents alive
Father deceased
Clan: Kazuraki Clan—a place spoken of with equal parts reverence and fear. Their compound was nestled within a valley where the moon always seemed too close, and the wind carried the whispers of past warriors. Unlike clans that boasted elemental dominance, the Kazuraki were something... deeper. Their mastery lay in the very rhythm of the soul. They could sense it, shape it, distort it. The Kazuraki didn't just fight with power—they fought with presence. They stood where others fell, not because of brute strength, but because reality itself twisted in their favor.
Their most coveted legacy, the Raikōgan, was more than an eye technique. It was an awakening. When activated, the user's eyes turned a mesmerizing deep purple, swirling with raw Soul Energy. At full potential, the Raikōgan could launch soul-charged projectiles, explosive orbs resembling miniature tailed beast bombs, each infused with the user's unique Art and brimming with unstable SE that made them howl through the air. The Raikōgan also granted its wielder the ability to read another's SEU, cast illusions to disrupt perception, and manipulate the space between moments with distortion. Kakari hadn't unlocked even half of it yet. His older brother, Shirō Kazuraki, had already carved legends with illusions so intricate they bled into reality—but Kakari wasn't chasing his shadow. Every drop of sweat in the clan courtyard, every burst of black lightning, every near-breakdown during training... it was his own storm rising.
Sensei: Ranzaki
Stupid in the best way
Gets along well with all
Becomes serious and tactical in battle
Uses basic elemental arts (not thunder or lightning)
The Kazuraki Clan's private training arena stretched wide beneath the open sky, encircled by polished obsidian walls marked with age-old etchings of past warriors. Cracks shimmered faintly with residual Soul Energy from generations of battle, and in the center stood two figures—Kakari, shoulders tense, breath sharp, and across from him, calm and composed, stood Shirō Kazuraki, the eldest son of the clan.
Kakari's boots skidded across the stone as he lunged forward, a trail of black lightning bursting from his arms. He closed the distance in an instant, fist crackling with explosive energy.
But Shirō didn't even flinch.
The older brother's Raikōgan flared—those regal, violet eyes gleaming like twin galaxies. Kakari's attack hit air. A ripple—distortion. Shirō's illusion shifted the battlefield subtly, milliseconds before contact.
"Again," Shirō said simply, arms still folded.
Kakari gritted his teeth and shot forward, forming a jagged arrow in each hand, lightning convulsing violently. He launched them with everything he had.
They never hit.
Instead, a violet orb flickered into view—dense and swirling like a compressed storm. A Raikōgan bomb. It swallowed the black arrows and detonated midair in silence. The pressure hit Kakari like a wall, and he was thrown back, tumbling across the stone floor.
"You're forcing it," Shirō's voice echoed. "That's why your illusions break apart. And your energy's too wild—stop mimicking me."
Kakari groaned, wiping blood from his lip. "Then teach me properly instead of standing there looking pretty."
That got a snort from Shirō.
"Master your own Raikōgan first. It's not about strength. It's about what you see," he said. Then, with a faint smile—one Kakari barely caught—he added, "But you're getting there, little brother. Slowly."
Kakari lay back against the stone, his body still buzzing from the impact. He stared at the sky, a spark of something fierce flickering in his chest.
Someday… he'd stand beside him as an equal.
Then in the training field behind the Kazuraki compound was a warzone of puddles, drenched scrolls, and flailing instructors.
"REEEIKA!!"
A furious yell tore through the afternoon wind as an elder dove for safety, just before a massive surge of water swept through the field like a rogue tidal wave. At the heart of it all stood Reika, barefoot, shirt half-soaked, arms outstretched with dramatic flair.
"Heh… too much output, huh?" he muttered, grinning sheepishly.
He'd been experimenting with a new move: Tidal Surge Piercer—a technique meant to blast concentrated water jets from below the opponent and skewer their stance.
Instead, he accidentally summoned a miniature geyser that exploded from beneath the ground, uprooted a tree, and sent two training dummies flying into the koi pond.
Ayame stood nearby, arms folded, drenched hair sticking to her face like vines, a thorn whip twitching in her grip.
"Five seconds," she warned. "Before I turn you into fish food."
"Oh c'mon, it was just a test! Look at that form! Elegant chaos!"
Kakari and Seijun stood at a distance, both watching the chaos unfold.
"…He's gonna die," Seijun said flatly.
"He deserves it," Kakari replied, crossing his arms.
But even as Reika ran screaming from Ayame's wrath, laughter filled the courtyard. Elders grumbled, yes—but beneath it all, there was warmth. A team forming bonds not just through missions… but through chaotic friendship.
And in the middle of it, Kakari allowed himself to laugh. Even if his training felt like a stormcloud overhead… these moments mattered too.
And soon, the Raikōgan would awaken fully.
[End of Chapter 2]The air in the Ashenfang Clan compound was thick with tension and the sharp scent of ozone. Somewhere in the distance, training dummies exploded in bursts of smoke, lightning crackling from a reckless direction.
"Kakari! Slow down! You're going to burn the field again!" his little sister yelled, peeking from behind a tree.
But Kakari wasn't listening. His breath was ragged, his arms trembling, and his eyes — deep black irises glowing faintly with streaks of violet — were fixated on the mark ahead. A small orb of unstable energy, pulsing with dark purple light, floated between his hands.
Then, like a flickering candle, it died.
"Tch… again," he muttered.
He wasn't alone. Standing far off on a raised wooden balcony was a man cloaked in a storm-colored haori with lazy eyes, spiky hair, and a permanent smirk. This was their sensei — Ranzaki. A master of basic elemental arts, Ranzaki was known more for his carefree stupidity than skill. But when he stepped into battle, he became an entirely different beast.
Ranzaki yawned. "You're trying to force it, dumbass. The Voidstorm Orb won't form just because you glare at it hard enough."
Kakari gritted his teeth. His training with the Raikōgan, the mystical eyes of his clan, was slow and frustrating. His older brother, Reijaku, had mastered multiple techniques already — distortion, powerful illusions, even a true Voidstorm projectile. Kakari, on the other hand, could barely keep up with the illusions. His SEU reading flickered in and out, and sometimes he forgot to even activate the eyes.
"Focus less on power, more on rhythm. The storm's not about rage — it's about timing," Ranzaki added, flicking a stone that hit Kakari in the forehead.
"Ow—! Are you serious?!" Kakari growled.
His sister giggled behind the tree. "You always fall for that."
Nearby, Kakari's grandparents — both alive and strong despite their age — watched with quiet approval. His mother stood beside them, arms crossed, eyes gentle but fierce. His older brother, Reijaku, leaned against a post, arms folded, his Raikōgan active and glowing.
"You've got potential," Reijaku said. "But your illusions are garbage. And your SEU read last night told me I had 2000 energy units. 2000? bro seriously? I'm at 7600."
Kakari glared. "Shut up."
Their rivalry was well-known. Reijaku was loved and respected in the clan, a prodigy. Kakari? The storm still forming. But his little sister, Kana, often teased him into laughter, never letting his frustration take over. Her calm, gentle mockery helped keep Kakari grounded.
Later that evening, Raijiro, Seijun, Ayame, and Reika arrived at the training field. They had all returned from personal drills with their own clans or mentors. Ranzaki gathered them all.
"Tomorrow, we leave the compound. You've all been approved to assist with your first guided mission," he said, stretching.
Ayame brushed a strand of black hair behind her ear. "You sure they're ready?" she said, nodding toward Kakari.
Seijun grinned, staff over her shoulder. "He's got fire. I mean—lightning. Just needs to aim it better."
Reika snorted, creating a tiny water bubble in his palm. "At least he's not burning his eyebrows off anymore."
Ranzaki chuckled. "Don't get too cocky, kids. You're walking into real territory soon. And Kakari — get your Raikōgan in shape. Or you're not gonna survive what's coming."
Kakari looked up at the sky.
"I'll get there."
The black lightning inside him began to hum.
And the storm was far from over.
Current Abilities of Kakari's Raikōgan:
SEU Reading: Sees a person's Soul Energy Units (inaccurate, still learning)
Storm Mirage: Short illusions (1-2 sec max), single target, good for distraction
Instinct Dodge: Early form of advanced evasion, not fully reliable
Training Goals:
Voidstorm Orb: A condensed black/purple bomb-like blast made from raw SE and his unique Art
Dimensional Distortion: A high-level space-bending dodge technique (hasn't triggered it yet)
Kakari's Family:
Mother: Alive, strong, and supportive
Older Brother Reijaku: Master of Raikōgan, respected, rival to Kakari
Little Sister Kana: Playful, teasing, grounding presence
Both sets of grandparents alive
Father deceased
Clan: Kazuraki Clan—a place spoken of with equal parts reverence and fear. Their compound was nestled within a valley where the moon always seemed too close, and the wind carried the whispers of past warriors. Unlike clans that boasted elemental dominance, the Kazuraki were something... deeper. Their mastery lay in the very rhythm of the soul. They could sense it, shape it, distort it. The Kazuraki didn't just fight with power—they fought with presence. They stood where others fell, not because of brute strength, but because reality itself twisted in their favor.
Their most coveted legacy, the Raikōgan, was more than an eye technique. It was an awakening. When activated, the user's eyes turned a mesmerizing deep purple, swirling with raw Soul Energy. At full potential, the Raikōgan could launch soul-charged projectiles, explosive orbs resembling miniature tailed beast bombs, each infused with the user's unique Art and brimming with unstable SE that made them howl through the air. The Raikōgan also granted its wielder the ability to read another's SEU, cast illusions to disrupt perception, and manipulate the space between moments with distortion. Kakari hadn't unlocked even half of it yet. His older brother, Shirō Kazuraki, had already carved legends with illusions so intricate they bled into reality—but Kakari wasn't chasing his shadow. Every drop of sweat in the clan courtyard, every burst of black lightning, every near-breakdown during training... it was his own storm rising.
Sensei: Ranzaki
Stupid in the best way
Gets along well with all
Becomes serious and tactical in battle
Uses basic elemental arts (not thunder or lightning)
The Kazuraki Clan's private training arena stretched wide beneath the open sky, encircled by polished obsidian walls marked with age-old etchings of past warriors. Cracks shimmered faintly with residual Soul Energy from generations of battle, and in the center stood two figures—Kakari, shoulders tense, breath sharp, and across from him, calm and composed, stood Shirō Kazuraki, the eldest son of the clan.
Kakari's boots skidded across the stone as he lunged forward, a trail of black lightning bursting from his arms. He closed the distance in an instant, fist crackling with explosive energy.
But Shirō didn't even flinch.
The older brother's Raikōgan flared—those regal, violet eyes gleaming like twin galaxies. Kakari's attack hit air. A ripple—distortion. Shirō's illusion shifted the battlefield subtly, milliseconds before contact.
"Again," Shirō said simply, arms still folded.
Kakari gritted his teeth and shot forward, forming a jagged arrow in each hand, lightning convulsing violently. He launched them with everything he had.
They never hit.
Instead, a violet orb flickered into view—dense and swirling like a compressed storm. A Raikōgan bomb. It swallowed the black arrows and detonated midair in silence. The pressure hit Kakari like a wall, and he was thrown back, tumbling across the stone floor.
"You're forcing it," Shirō's voice echoed. "That's why your illusions break apart. And your energy's too wild—stop mimicking me."
Kakari groaned, wiping blood from his lip. "Then teach me properly instead of standing there looking pretty."
That got a snort from Shirō.
"Master your own Raikōgan first. It's not about strength. It's about what you see," he said. Then, with a faint smile—one Kakari barely caught—he added, "But you're getting there, little brother. Slowly."
Kakari lay back against the stone, his body still buzzing from the impact. He stared at the sky, a spark of something fierce flickering in his chest.
Someday… he'd stand beside him as an equal.
Then in the training field behind the Kazuraki compound was a warzone of puddles, drenched scrolls, and flailing instructors.
"REEEIKA!!"
A furious yell tore through the afternoon wind as an elder dove for safety, just before a massive surge of water swept through the field like a rogue tidal wave. At the heart of it all stood Reika, barefoot, shirt half-soaked, arms outstretched with dramatic flair.
"Heh… too much output, huh?" he muttered, grinning sheepishly.
He'd been experimenting with a new move: Tidal Surge Piercer—a technique meant to blast concentrated water jets from below the opponent and skewer their stance.
Instead, he accidentally summoned a miniature geyser that exploded from beneath the ground, uprooted a tree, and sent two training dummies flying into the koi pond.
Ayame stood nearby, arms folded, drenched hair sticking to her face like vines, a thorn whip twitching in her grip.
"Five seconds," she warned. "Before I turn you into fish food."
"Oh c'mon, it was just a test! Look at that form! Elegant chaos!"
Kakari and Seijun stood at a distance, both watching the chaos unfold.
"…He's gonna die," Seijun said flatly.
"He deserves it," Kakari replied, crossing his arms.
But even as Reika ran screaming from Ayame's wrath, laughter filled the courtyard. Elders grumbled, yes—but beneath it all, there was warmth. A team forming bonds not just through missions… but through chaotic friendship.
And in the middle of it, Kakari allowed himself to laugh. Even if his training felt like a stormcloud overhead… these moments mattered too.
And soon, the Raikōgan would awaken full