The moon shone brightly in the night sky, its light bathing the training grounds as if trying to purify them. Reiji Mikazuki stood before his two students, watching them in silence, hands behind his back, his gaze heavy with a knowledge that seemed to burden him.
"Starting today, you'll train under my guidance," he finally said, his voice calm but firm. "It won't be easy. The path of the Shinkon doesn't forgive those who doubt themselves."
Donyoku swallowed hard. Beside him, Chisiki stood tall, though the furrow in his brow revealed the tension he tried to hide.
"What exactly is Shinkon?" Donyoku asked, unable to conceal the mix of curiosity and doubt that had stirred in him since that day in the plaza.
Reiji gave a faint smile, as if he'd been expecting the question.
"Shinkon... is the purest reflection of the soul. It's not magic or energy. It's will. Conviction. Everything one is... and everything one fears to become."
Chisiki narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. Donyoku, on the other hand, frowned.
"So how do we use it?"
"Each soul is unique. Everyone manifests it differently. But first, you must face yourselves."
With a subtle motion of his hand, Reiji triggered something. The world seemed to twist. The field dissolved into a dark mist, and suddenly, the two boys found themselves in a dreamlike space—a vast gray plain with no sky or ground, only an echo that seemed to rise from their own thoughts.
"What is this?" Donyoku whispered.
"An illusion. But not just my creation. This space is woven with pieces of you—your memories, your fears, your desires," Reiji's voice echoed from all directions. "To control your Shinkon, you must confront what lies inside you... even the parts you wish you'd never felt."
They looked at each other, uncertain. But there was no turning back.
---
The first training session began with grueling physical exercises. Reiji was not lenient. Though he was a man of wisdom, his teaching style was harsh—almost unforgiving. He had them run until they collapsed, train blindfolded, and meditate under an icy waterfall. Each task was meant not just to strengthen the body but to slowly break mental barriers.
In the afternoon, Aika approached the training grounds with a basket in her hands. Her steps were clumsy, uncertain, as if each one brought her closer to an edge.
"Um... I brought some food," she said, raising her voice slightly. Donyoku lifted his head from the ground, panting from exhaustion. "I thought maybe... you hadn't eaten."
Chisiki raised an eyebrow, amused. Donyoku, somewhere between confused and grateful, accepted the food silently. Aika blushed to her ears and ran off, stumbling over a root.
Chisiki burst out laughing.
"That girl is seriously into you."
Donyoku muttered, "Shut up," but couldn't help smiling. The basket held warm bread, fruit, and a carefully wrapped rice sweet. Reiji watched from a nearby rock, silently. His eyes paused for a moment on Donyoku, as if seeing something not yet ready to surface.
That night, Donyoku found a small note inside the basket:
"I don't know if this helps... but I want you to be okay."
He tucked the note into his pocket without a word, though he read it more than once before falling asleep.
---
Training intensified. Reiji once again cast them into the illusionary space. But this time, the environment wasn't neutral. Each was separated and thrown into a different fragment of their mind.
Donyoku saw himself in the Hokori Kingdom plaza, surrounded by soldiers. Screams, blood, injustice. But this time, he wasn't a bystander—he was one of them. His clothes stained red. His sword dripping. Lifeless bodies all around. The sound of a crying child at his feet.
"What... what is this?" he murmured.
"A possibility," Reiji said, appearing behind him like a whisper. "How many times have you felt rage, Donyoku? How many times have you wanted to crush the kingdom with your own hands?"
Donyoku dropped to his knees, trembling.
"I... I don't want this. I don't want to become this."
"Then learn to control it. Because if you don't... this is what awaits you."
Elsewhere, Chisiki found himself alone, in a completely empty world. He walked a hallway with no end, lined with locked doors. Every one he opened led him back to moments of loneliness, abandonment, and silence. Finally, one door opened to a vision: Donyoku, dead at his feet. Reiji, covered in blood. Aika, crying.
Chisiki shut his eyes. Took a deep breath.
"No... I won't let that happen."
When he emerged from the illusion, his face was drenched in sweat. Donyoku, beside him, was breathing heavily. Both had been marked by what they'd seen.
Reiji watched them from above, arms crossed. His gaze was stern, but also... protective.
"They're barely scratching the surface," he murmured. "But they've started."
---
The moon rose again, paler this time. Donyoku couldn't sleep. He sat outside their makeshift shelter, the note from Aika between his fingers. The creature from his vision still haunted him. Its face... its voice... were his.
"You okay?" Chisiki asked, approaching with a lit branch serving as a torch.
"I don't know what's happening to me. I feel like... there's something inside me. Something I can't control. Something that could... destroy everything."
Chisiki sat beside him. For a few moments, neither said a word.
"If it hadn't been for Reiji," Chisiki said at last, his voice low, "I would've fallen too. He's giving us a chance not everyone gets."
"What if it's not enough?" Donyoku asked.
Chisiki didn't answer right away. He watched the embers dance in the dark. Then said:
"Then our choices will define us. Not what we carry inside."
---
As the night wore on, Reiji watched the two boys from afar. His face, usually calm, showed a hint of concern.
"That boy's soul... is like a bottomless pit," he whispered. "If he doesn't find a light to guide him, it'll swallow everything."
His words faded into the wind, as the shadow of a formless figure emerged from the woods, watching from the darkness.
And so, the darkness began its training too.