The classroom had fallen silent. Chairs were overturned, papers scattered across the floor, and a faint wisp of shadowy energy still lingered in the corners of the room. Haruto Kageyama remained at his desk, gray eyes fixed on the faint echoes of the cursed presence he had just dispelled. His chest rose and fell steadily, though his body still trembled slightly from the adrenaline.
It had been the first real test. A small, seemingly insignificant curse, but enough to push his instincts to the limit. Energy had erupted from him reflexively, scattering objects, sending chairs and books flying. And yet, beneath the chaos, a strange clarity settled in his mind.
He closed his eyes, letting the echoes of energy fade slightly. And then it hit him.
Not just the reflexes. Not just the energy. Something deeper, something innate—but not his own.
Pain.
Not the literal name of agony, but the memory of Nagato—the experience, the battles, the control, the instinct. The precise, calculated energy manipulation that Nagato had wielded in countless encounters. It was all here, embedded within him. A sudden mental flash, memories not of his own life but Nagato's—images of battles, strategies, and the ebb and flow of energy coursing through a body fully trained, fully aware.
"This… this is Nagato's power… the same one he called Pain. It's here… in me."
Haruto's eyes snapped open. The classroom, the students, the scattered objects—everything seemed sharper now, more detailed. He could feel the subtle tremors of residual energy in the floor, the faint imbalance of gravity as the air shifted around him, the lingering presence of the cursed entity he had just destroyed. Every tiny ripple of motion resonated through him as if speaking in a language he had always known.
He rose from his chair, moving slowly to the center of the classroom. His hands hovered over a fallen notebook. Without thinking, the notebook lifted, spinning slowly in midair. Haruto's mind instinctively adjusted the energy flow, stabilizing it before it could fall. The movement was precise, effortless, and yet carried a strange familiarity—a memory not of him, but Nagato.
"So this… this is how it feels. The control, the flow… the awareness."
Images flashed in his mind: towering structures crumbling, foes crushed under invisible force, bodies suspended, the precise manipulation of energy like a conductor directing an orchestra. The memory of Pain's techniques—the way Nagato had divided his power, extended it, controlled it remotely—flowed through him like a current. He staggered slightly, gripping his desk for support, trying to reconcile his own body with the influx of another's instincts.
"Step by step… control what I can. Learn the reflex, then extend it… then awaken it fully."
The idea struck him like a bolt: this power, in this body, in this world… could be awakened. Not just the raw reflexes he had just displayed, but the full scope of Nagato's Pain. The strategic awareness, the control over distance and movement, the ability to manipulate energy like an extension of his will.
A faint grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "If I can control this… if I can bring it into reality here… maybe I can… recreate it… awaken it… step by step."
The classroom door opened slightly, and a few students peeked in, still frightened. Haruto adjusted his posture, letting the notebook settle gently to the ground. He gave them a faint, neutral smile, masking the whirlwind of thoughts within.
"Not yet. They don't need to know. This… this is mine to understand first."
He moved to the window, looking out at the courtyard. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the playground. The faint pulse of residual energy teased at his awareness, tugging at his focus. Without conscious effort, he could feel the lingering pattern of the cursed entity—the path it had taken, the rhythm of its movements, the subtle vibrations it had left in the air.
"Nagato… your knowledge… your instincts… they're guiding me already."
He clenched his fists. For a moment, he imagined Tendo—not as a physical puppet yet, but as a concept, a framework. A way to extend his will safely and deliberately, a controlled conduit for the energy that still surged within him. The thought was fleeting, but powerful.
"If I can channel this… if I can direct it… I can create a tool… a vessel… a puppet."
Haruto exhaled, letting the tension in his body ease slightly. The energy that had surged from him reflexively was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but he could sense it, observe it, measure it. He realized something crucial: the reflexive outburst was only the first step. To awaken Nagato's Pain here, in this world, he would need to harness it consciously, refine it, and extend it beyond his immediate reach.
"Step by step… first the awareness, then the control, then… creation."
He sank to the floor, cross-legged, letting the mental images flow freely. Battles, movements, strategies—Nagato's memories poured into him, and yet, they were no longer foreign. His mind began connecting patterns, understanding the flow, predicting outcomes.
A small scrap of paper drifted to the floor beside him. With a subtle flick of thought, it lifted, spun in the air, and landed neatly atop a stack of books. Haruto's eyes followed every detail. Even in this simple act, he could sense the precision required—the energy needed, the balance, the subtle feedback of the environment responding.
"This… this is the beginning. Pain's instincts are mine to learn, to awaken… but I will do it on my terms. Step by step."
The classroom door opened fully, the teacher finally stepping in, her eyes scanning the room, noting the disarray and the still-hovering remnants of energy. Haruto rose slowly, facing her with a composed expression.
"Are… you all right?" she asked, voice trembling slightly.
Haruto nodded. "Yes. Everyone's fine now."
He didn't tell her that a faint pulse of energy still hummed around the room, waiting, observing, learning. That would come later. For now, he focused on the key insight of the day: Nagato's power—Pain—was here. And if he could awaken it, even partially, he could turn this raw, reactive force into something deliberate, precise, and controlled.
He turned back to the window, the sunlight fading into a warm amber glow. Shadows lengthened across the courtyard. Haruto allowed his awareness to stretch slightly, feeling the subtle vibrations of the world outside—the sway of trees, the flicker of distant movement, the pulse of ambient energy.
"Tomorrow… I begin the real training. Step by step. First awareness… then control… then the puppet."
The thought of Tendo flitted through his mind again. A puppet as a controlled extension of his energy, a vessel to channel and refine Nagato's Pain safely. It was still just a concept, but for the first time, it felt achievable.
Haruto exhaled slowly, letting the tension of the day slide from his shoulders. The energy within him hummed softly, awaiting the next command, the next experiment, the next step toward awakening the full power embedded in his body.
And in that quiet moment, he understood: the first incident at school was not merely a test. It was a beginning. A spark. A reminder that in this world, danger was real, power was essential, and Nagato's legacy—Pain—was a tool he could awaken, step by step, to shape his own path.
The bell rang, its sharp clang echoing through the empty hallways, signaling the end of the school day. Haruto Kageyama adjusted his bag over his shoulder, feeling the weight settle unevenly against his back. The classroom still bore the aftermath of the morning's chaos—papers scattered, chairs toppled, and the lingering hum of residual energy. Students were slowly filing out, whispering nervously, casting glances toward him, though none dared to approach.
Haruto exhaled, letting the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. The first encounter with a cursed presence in this world had left him shaken, though in a controlled way. His gray eyes swept the room, taking in every detail: the subtle displacement of air, the vibration of the wooden floorboards, the faint aura left behind by the defeated curse. It was all data, all part of the puzzle that was this world.
"Nagato's power… it's here. My body knows it, my instincts follow it… but control… control is incomplete."
He stepped into the hallway, the long corridor stretching ahead. Sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting stripes of gold across the polished floor. Haruto's steps were deliberate, silent, almost meditative. Yet, even as he walked, he could feel the remnants of energy pulsing faintly in his veins.
A discarded pencil rolled across the floor ahead of him, nudged by a draft from the open windows. Without thinking, his hand twitched slightly, and the pencil lifted mid-roll, spinning gently before coming to rest upright against a desk. Haruto froze for a moment, eyes wide, heart skipping a beat.
"Reflex… automatic. I didn't even think about it. Pain's instinct is… still active."
He shook his head slightly, trying to regain composure. This was no longer theory. The energy, the instincts, the latent power—it was real, present, and deeply integrated with his body. Every movement, every breath, was subtly influenced by Nagato's memory and experience.
"Step by step… awareness first, then control… then deliberate action."
Haruto exited the school grounds, stepping onto the familiar sidewalks of his neighborhood. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the streets in warm hues of amber and orange. The sounds of late afternoon—children laughing, distant traffic, birds returning to roost—were filtered through his heightened senses. Every vibration in the ground, every rustle of leaves, every subtle shift in air currents resonated with him in ways he could barely articulate.
He passed a row of trash bins along the sidewalk. A small gust of wind knocked one slightly off balance. Instinctively, Haruto extended a subtle wave of energy, almost imperceptible. The bin steadied itself with a gentle tilt, remaining upright. His lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"Even these small interactions… they're practice. Micro-adjustments… feedback. This is how I learn to control it."
The neighborhood around him seemed ordinary to everyone else, but Haruto could perceive the hidden undercurrent: small pockets of ambient energy, the subtle pressure of gravity, faint traces of movement left by others. It was like seeing the invisible threads of the world, and every step he took was a chance to test, to adjust, to refine his awareness.
A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision—nothing solid, just a brief, unnatural movement. His instincts flared immediately. Haruto's hands moved subtly, fingers twitching, sending a pulse of energy toward the source. The shadow dissipated before forming fully, leaving only a faint ripple in the air.
"Reflex… still reactive. I can stop small threats, but I need control. Full control. Pain's instincts are powerful, but I must harness them consciously, not just respond."
He slowed his pace, taking in the streetlights beginning to glow along the sidewalk. Their soft illumination highlighted the subtle contours of the environment—the uneven pavement, the sway of branches, the flicker of distant headlights. Each detail was data, each detail an opportunity to anticipate movement, to predict disturbances, to refine control over the energy that still hummed beneath his skin.
Haruto's thoughts drifted to Tendo. The puppet, still only a conceptual framework in his mind, felt more real with every step, every minor interaction. "If I can direct this energy deliberately, without reflex… Tendo can exist. Not now… not yet… but soon. Step by step, experiment by experiment."
A cat darted across the street ahead, and instinctively, Haruto extended a faint energy pulse to nudge it safely aside from the road. The movement was subtle, controlled, almost elegant. The cat froze, then scurried along harmlessly. Haruto's pulse slowed. The satisfaction was quiet, internal—a reminder that small victories were as important as large ones.
"Nagato's instincts guide me… but I am still learning. Every step is awareness… every micro-adjustment… a chance to refine control."
The sun dipped further, casting long, thin shadows across the pavement. Haruto continued walking, each step deliberate, each motion measured. He observed the environment with precision: a loose board on a porch, a tilted mailbox, the slight shimmer of residual energy from passing vehicles. Every anomaly was a test, a chance to hone his reflexes, to learn the boundaries of Pain's influence within his body.
A group of children ran past, laughing, their voices high and carefree. Haruto felt the subtle shift in energy as they passed, noting how movement displaced air, how footsteps resonated through the ground, how presence altered the ambient energy. He adjusted his awareness, sending tiny, controlled pulses to harmonize with the flow, ensuring no uncontrolled reactions occurred.
"Step by step… small interactions first. Learn to guide the energy… then extend it. Tendo… you will come next."
Haruto's home came into view, a modest building tucked between a row of similar structures. He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar sight. The neighborhood seemed mundane, but he now knew better. Every object, every shadow, every subtle shift could carry hidden potential or risk. Awareness was everything. Control was everything.
Inside his home, he set down his bag and allowed himself to stretch. The energy within him hummed softly, still pulsing faintly from the day's incident. His fingers twitched slightly as he flexed them, observing the response of residual energy in the room. Even simple movements caused tiny ripples, and he noted each one meticulously.
"Tomorrow… I begin deliberate experiments. Step by step. Increase range, test control… Tendo as conduit, first conceptual, then physical. Harness Pain's instincts, refine them… not just reactive, but precise."
He sat cross-legged on the floor, closing his eyes. The quiet of his room contrasted sharply with the chaos of the day, yet even here, he observed. A pen rolled slightly on the desk. A subtle pulse from his hand guided it to a gentle stop, upright. Small, almost invisible, but perfectly controlled.
"Small victories… first micro-control, then macro. Awareness, control, then creation. That's the path."
Outside, the sky darkened to deep indigo, streetlights flickering on, casting long, soft shadows. Haruto's mind drifted over Nagato's memories—Pain's techniques, strategies, control over multiple forms and distances. Each memory offered guidance, insight, and inspiration. He allowed them to flow into his consciousness, observing without rushing, understanding without forcing.
"This… this is just the beginning. Step by step… experiment by experiment… Pain's instincts within me, Tendo forming in my mind… and the world beyond, waiting."
A faint pulse of energy circled his room, almost imperceptible, as if acknowledging his resolve. Haruto opened his eyes, gray irises glinting with quiet determination. The journey home had been more than a walk; it was a rehearsal, a test, a meditation on control, awareness, and the first steps toward awakening Nagato's power in this new world.
And somewhere in the quiet, he whispered to himself:
"Tomorrow… I take the next step. Step by step, I will master this power. Step by step, I will bring Tendo to life."
The streets were quiet now, the low hum of the city settling into the soft rhythms of evening. Haruto Kageyama's steps were measured as he walked home, the fading light of the sun casting long shadows along the sidewalk. Each step seemed to echo faintly in his ears, a gentle reminder of the awareness that had been awakened in him during the day's chaos.
Even after the first encounter with the cursed presence at school, the residual energy within him still pulsed faintly, responding to the environment with subtle, reflexive movements. As he walked, a shadow shifted at the edge of his vision—a minor ripple of dark energy lingering from the earlier incident. It was weak, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but Haruto's instincts flared immediately.
His hands twitched ever so slightly, and a faint pulse of energy radiated outward. The shadow recoiled, dissipating into thin wisps before it could solidify. Haruto exhaled slowly, aware of how reactive his body had become. Pain's instincts still ran through him—automatic, precise, yet not fully under conscious control.
"Reflex is one thing… control is another. Step by step… I have to learn to guide it, not just react."
He adjusted his pace, carefully observing the street ahead. A loose trash can rattled slightly in the wind, a stray paper fluttered by. Without conscious effort, he sent a micro-pulse of energy, nudging the can back upright and guiding the paper safely aside. Each small action was a lesson—a test of his awareness, a practice in controlling the subtle currents of energy that lingered in the world.
"Even small interactions… they matter. Each ripple, each movement… it's feedback."
As the city settled into the evening, Haruto's thoughts returned to Tendo. The concept, first born as a mental sketch in his mind, was becoming clearer with every pulse of energy, every instinctive reaction. Tendo would be the conduit through which he could safely extend Pain's power—a controlled extension of his energy. Not yet physical, not yet real, but the foundation was forming.
The shadows of the city lengthened as Haruto approached a narrow alleyway. A subtle disturbance caught his attention—a lingering trace of negative energy from a passing vehicle, amplified slightly by the uneven flow of the street. His body reacted automatically, fingers twitching as a faint aura emanated from him. The shadow wavered, dissipating harmlessly.
"Reflex… still active. I must channel it deliberately next time. Tendo… you will be the key."
By the time he reached his street, the sky had darkened to a deep indigo. Streetlights flickered to life, illuminating the familiar houses with warm halos. Haruto slowed his pace, observing the subtle vibrations in the pavement, the gentle sway of tree branches, the distant hum of vehicles. Every detail fed into his awareness, every movement was data to be analyzed, every shadow a potential test of his reflexes.
His home came into view—a modest, two-story building nestled between similar structures. Haruto's pace relaxed slightly, though his senses remained keen. As he reached the front door, he removed his bag and stepped inside, greeted immediately by the familiar scent of home and the soft voices of his parents.
"Haruto! How was school today?" his mother asked cheerfully, setting down a plate of snacks on the kitchen counter.
"Good," he replied calmly, voice even, masking the turbulence of the day. He smiled faintly, shrugging off his bag and heading toward the living room.
His father glanced up from the newspaper. "You look tired. Everything okay?"
"Yeah, just a long day," Haruto answered, moving to place his books neatly on the shelf. He made sure to keep his movements normal, deliberate—no unintended pulses of energy, no subtle shifts in the objects around him. To anyone observing, he was just an ordinary teenager.
"They don't need to know… not yet. This power… Pain… Tendo… it's mine to master first."
He sank into a chair at the table, taking a deep breath. The faint hum of residual energy remained within him, but he focused on controlling it, feeling the subtle ebb and flow as he practiced internally. Even mundane actions—pouring tea, adjusting a cushion, straightening a book—became exercises in precision, tiny experiments in energy manipulation without outward manifestation.
"Step by step… first awareness, then control… then Tendo. That's the path."
Dinner passed normally, conversation flowing casually. Haruto responded to his parents, laughed softly at his father's jokes, and even offered small comments about school life. To them, he was perfectly ordinary, unaware of the turmoil and extraordinary abilities simmering just beneath the surface. Yet, in the quiet moments, as he sipped his tea or adjusted his chair, his mind traced the energy patterns in the room, testing control, observing reactions, fine-tuning awareness.
After the dishes were cleared, Haruto moved to his room, closing the door behind him. The familiar comfort of his own space allowed him to relax slightly, though his senses remained alert. He sat cross-legged on the floor, letting the ambient energy circulate within him, feeling every tremor, every pulse, every residual echo from the day's incident.
"Tomorrow… experiments begin. Step by step… awareness, control, Tendo. Pain's instincts are within me, but I must awaken them consciously. Not just reflex… deliberate. Precise."
He allowed himself a small smile, thinking of the puppet—Tendo—not yet real, but already forming in his mind. A tool, an extension of his power, a way to channel Pain's instincts safely and deliberately.
Outside, the city settled into night. The streets were quiet, lights glowing softly, and the world seemed peaceful, but Haruto knew better. Danger, curses, and anomalies existed everywhere, invisible to most. Awareness and control would be his shield. Pain's instincts would be his guide. And Tendo… would be his first creation, a step toward mastering this new world.
He leaned back against the wall, eyes scanning the room one last time. Everything was in place, nothing out of order. And yet, in the quiet hum of the energy that pulsed within him, he felt the stirrings of potential—immense, untapped, waiting to be shaped.
"Step by step… tomorrow begins the real training. Step by step, Tendo will come to life. Step by step… I will master Pain, here, in this world."
Haruto closed his eyes, letting the night settle over him. The first incident was over, the reflexive outburst survived, and the first seeds of awareness had taken root. Tomorrow, he would take the next step. And the day after, and the day after that, until the instincts, the power, and the puppet would all be fully realized under his control.
For now, the evening was quiet. Haruto Kageyama sat in his room, a normal teenager to his parents, a nascent sorcerer aware of the extraordinary potential sleeping within him, ready to awaken step by step.