The gates of the Hidden Leaf Village Academy loomed large before Kaito, their imposing wooden frames etched with years of history. He stood quietly, hands resting loosely by his sides, his twin tanto gleaming faintly in the morning light. Around him, a swarm of eager students pushed forward, their laughter and chatter filling the air. But Kaito was still—a quiet observer amidst the chaos.
The moment stretched on until a voice broke through the din.
"Oi, you there! You planning to stand there all day or what?"
Kaito turned, his magenta eyes locking onto a boy with spiky brown hair and a wide grin. The boy wore a standard shinobi uniform, and a headband with the village's symbol was tied tightly around his forehead. His energy was infectious, but Kaito felt no urge to respond. Instead, he gave a slight nod and stepped forward, slipping past the boy without a word.
Inside the Academy, the halls were abuzz with excitement. The walls were adorned with posters of legendary ninja, and the air was thick with anticipation. Kaito kept his gaze forward, scanning the room as he entered the classroom. Rows of desks stretched out before him, filled with students of all shapes and sizes. Some looked confident, others nervous. Kaito took a seat near the back, where the shadows lingered, offering him a sense of detachment from the crowd.
The teacher, a tall man with a stern face and a scar running down his cheek, entered the room. His presence commanded silence.
"Welcome, future shinobi of the Hidden Leaf Village," he began, his voice calm but firm. "Today marks the beginning of your journey. Some of you will excel. Some of you will struggle. But know this: every one of you has the potential to become great."
Kaito barely listened. His mind was elsewhere, focused on the faint hum he felt in the back of his mind—a hum that had been growing louder with each passing day. It was the call of the Platinum Style, the dormant power within him, stirring as if in response to the village itself.
The teacher continued, outlining the day's schedule. The first challenge: a sparring session. It was a chance for the instructors to assess the students' abilities and for the students to prove themselves.
"Pair up!" the teacher barked.
Kaito remained seated as the other students rushed to find partners. The boy from earlier, the one with the wide grin, approached him again.
"Looks like you're the odd one out," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Guess we're stuck together. Name's Daiki."
Kaito nodded once more but said nothing. He stood and followed Daiki to the sparring ring, the chatter of the other students fading into a low hum as they took their positions.
"Alright," Daiki said, adopting a basic fighting stance. "Let's keep it light, yeah?"
Kaito's gaze sharpened. He hadn't come here to show off, but something told him this was more than just a simple spar. The moment Daiki lunged, Kaito moved. His movements were fluid, almost lazy, yet precise. He sidestepped Daiki's punch with ease, his body twisting gracefully out of reach.
Daiki stumbled, surprised by Kaito's speed. "You're fast," he muttered, regrouping. He came at Kaito again, this time with more caution, launching a series of quick jabs. Kaito dodged each one, his magenta eyes never leaving Daiki's.
The hum in Kaito's mind grew louder, and for a split second, he felt the familiar pull of the Platinum Style. He resisted, knowing it wasn't the time to reveal his hand. Instead, he pivoted on his heel, sweeping Daiki's legs out from under him. The boy hit the ground with a thud, the breath knocked from his lungs.
The room fell silent.
The teacher stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied Kaito. "Interesting," he murmured. "Very interesting."
Kaito extended a hand to Daiki, who accepted it with a grin, despite his bruised pride. "Guess I underestimated you," Daiki said, laughing. "You're full of surprises, huh?"
Kaito didn't respond. He simply helped Daiki to his feet and returned to his spot at the back of the room, the whispers of his classmates swirling around him.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Lessons on chakra control, basic ninjutsu, and the history of the village filled the hours. Kaito absorbed it all, his mind a sponge for information. But his thoughts always returned to the hum—the ever-present reminder of the power within him.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, Kaito found himself alone once more. He stood atop a hill overlooking the Academy, the cool evening breeze tugging at his hair and kimono.
For a moment, he closed his eyes, letting the hum of the Platinum Style wash over him. He could feel it—raw, untamed, and waiting.
This was just the beginning.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new tests of strength and will. And Kaito Hyōtoku would be ready.
The world may not know it yet, but the last of the Hyōtoku Clan was here.
And soon, they would remember.