Chapter 2:
– Blake –
I woke up groggily, my head was pounding but also… clear. Clearer than it had been in a long, long time. For the first time in years, I could remember who I was…
My real name, the name I was born with, was Akira Himejima.
I was born to a pair of loving parents, Shuri Himejima and the fallen angel Baraqiel. My slightly older sister, Akeno, was my best friend and partner in crime growing up. I say slightly older because nephilim pregnancies only last a few months. Akeno was only four months older than me, but she always liked to remind me that technically she was still my elder.
Our childhood was… idyllic, at least for a time. Sure, the rest of the Himejima clan despised us. They called us abominations, whispered cruel things when they thought we couldn't hear. But we didn't care. Akeno and I spent our days playing together, flying through the skies with our beautiful black wings, and learning about the world from our mother and father. It was peaceful, simple. Everything a kid could want.
Until the day it all went to hell.
I was only ten years old when the Himejima clan decided they'd had enough of us. They came to kill us—all of us. My father wasn't home that day. He was off on some mission or another, leaving us vulnerable. The attack happened so fast. One moment, my mother was smiling, telling us to get ready for dinner, and the next…
Blood. Lightning. Screams.
I remembered it all. My mother's lifeless body crumpled on the floor. My sister's terrified screams as she clung to me. Something inside me snapped. The power of my father's bloodline surged through me, crackling and roaring like a storm. My lightning tore through the men who had come to slaughter us. I didn't care how much they begged for mercy. I showed them none.
But then… something stopped me. I remember the voice, calm and impossibly powerful.
"You have far too much hate in your heart, child. I must seal away your powers and memories. Live a peaceful life as a mortal…"
I don't know what it was—A god? Something even older? I'll probably never know. But it took everything from me. My powers, my memories, my family. One moment, I was standing in the ashes of my home, and the next, I was waking up in America with no idea who I was or how I got there.
The rest of my life was history from there. Blake Smith was born that day. But now… now I remembered everything.
And yet, knowing who I was didn't give me answers. It gave me more questions. Who the hell was I now? Was I Akira Himejima, the boy who lost everything, or was I Blake Smith, the man who had spent eight years forging a life out of nothing? I wasn't sure anymore. But one thing I knew for certain: I hated that last name. Smith. It was the most generic name the foster system could have slapped on me.
It wasn't who I was.
Blake Himejima.
That would be my name from now on. It felt right in a way—like a bridge between the two halves of my life. Half-Japanese, half-fallen angel, and fully me. Blake Himejima.
Yeah, I could live with that.
The door to the room suddenly swung open, and two women stepped inside. Both were dressed… very interestingly. Kind of like kunoichi cosplayers or something straight out of Japan. The slightly younger woman with short black hair smiled at me in relief.
"Oh my goodness, you're awake! I'm so glad!" she said, running over to me. I tensed as her hand began to glow green.
She noticed my reaction and gave a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. It's just a basic diagnostic jutsu."
"Jutsu?" I muttered in confusion but let her do her thing. I had been on the verge of dying earlier, and obviously, I wasn't anymore. These two women probably saved my life. At the very least, they had powers. Were they mutants like Jean and Emma, or were they supernatural like me?
I supposed it didn't matter much.
Her green-glowing hand slowly ran over my body, pausing every so often.
"Hmm… Your wounds have all healed up very nicely. The surgery was a complete success!" she said before turning toward the other woman in the room. "I'm so glad, Lady Tsunade! You did it!"
My eyes flicked to the woman she addressed, and I froze for a moment. She was… stunning. Incredibly beautiful and, frankly, had the largest chest I'd ever seen. The words slipped out before I could stop myself.
"Are those natural?" I blurted, immediately regretting it.
Tsunade didn't seem upset by the comment. In fact, she chuckled, folding her arms and smirking. "Damn right they are," she said proudly.
I cleared my throat, feeling my face heat up. "Uh, thanks for saving me," I managed to say.
The younger woman, who I now guessed was named Shizune, shook her head. "We should be thanking you instead. You saved Lady Tsunade!"
"Huh?" I frowned, unsure what she meant.
Tsunade's cheeks reddened slightly as she looked away. "It's not important," she said quickly.
But Shizune wasn't having it. "It is important! Lady Tsunade is the world's best medic, but years ago, she developed a trauma for blood and couldn't perform surgeries anymore. And then yesterday, we were walking down the road heading for the next town when we suddenly saw you just lying there, bleeding out with some kind of jutsu stuck through your stomach. Instead of running away, Lady Tsunade immediately ran forward, despite all the blood, and started stabilizing you! I'm so proud!" Shizune finished, beaming.
I turned my gaze back to Tsunade, who was fidgeting slightly. Sincerely, I smiled at her. "Thank you for saving my life," I said, my words genuine.
Tsunade scoffed, but there was a playful edge to it. "It would have been a waste for such a handsome young man like you to just die like that," she added with a smirk.
Tsunade and Shizune wanted to know more about me—who I was and why I'd ended up half-dead in the middle of nowhere. I didn't owe them an explanation, not really, but I felt like I did. These two had saved my life, and they were giving off trustworthy vibes. So, I gave them the summarized version of my life story.
I told them about being half-human, half-fallen angel. About my parents, my sister Akeno, and the attack that had destroyed everything. I explained how my memories had been sealed, how I'd been dumped into the foster system in America with no idea who I really was. I even touched on mutants like Jean and Emma, people with extraordinary powers, and how they'd become a part of my life. It wasn't easy to say out loud, but they listened.
Tsunade and Shizune took it all in, their expressions shifting between intrigue and disbelief.
"Fallen angels? Mutants? I've never heard either of those terms before," Tsunade said, folding her arms and giving me a curious look. "Are you possibly from a different continent than the Elemental Nations?"
"The Elemental Nations?" I frowned. I'd never heard of the place...
Tsunade's intrigue only deepened. "Interesting," she murmured. "Especially since you're technically only half-human? As the world's best medic—now back in action… sort of…" she added with a smirk, "I'd like to study you a bit!"
Shizune quickly jumped in. "Basically, Lady Tsunade is saying that since you have nowhere to go and somehow ended up in the Elemental Nations, you can stick around with us for a while."
"Really?" I asked, blinking in surprise. "But you two barely know me."
Tsunade scoffed, waving off my concern. "I'm a pretty damn good judge of character, I'll have you know. And if you did try something funny without my or Shizune's permission, I'd punch you into a mountain."
Shizune blushed a bit but nodded, her voice soft but firm. "Lady Tsunade is also known as the strongest kunoichi in the world, so it's a really bad idea to get on her bad side. And… she hates perverts and people who peep in hot springs."
"Er… I've never even been to a hot spring," I admitted. "They didn't really have those in New York."
Both women gave me curious looks at the mention of New York, but they didn't press further. Still, the more I talked to them, the more I started to suspect I was a lot farther from home than just another continent. How I'd ended up here, I had no clue. But one thing was certain: I needed to figure it out. And, if sticking around with Tsunade and Shizune gave me the time and resources to do that, then I wasn't going to argue.
A couple of hours later, I found myself pacing around the small hotel room. My body felt stiff from lying in bed for who knows how long, and moving around seemed like the best way to shake off the residual grogginess. The scent of something delicious wafted through the air, and my stomach growled in response.
I wandered toward the kitchen, where Shizune was at the stove, expertly tossing rice in a sizzling pan.
"Smells amazing," I said, leaning against the doorway.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "Thanks. It's just fried rice, but it's one of Lady Tsunade's favorites."
"Need a hand?" I offered, stepping closer.
Shizune's smile widened. "Sure. Can you chop those vegetables?" She pointed to a small pile of carrots and green onions on the counter. I nodded, grabbing a knife and getting to work.
As I sliced, I glanced over at her. "So, where's Tsunade?"
Shizune's cheerful expression faltered, and she let out a long sigh. "She's… at the casino."
I paused mid-chop, raising an eyebrow. "Casino?"
"Yes," Shizune said, her tone weary. She tossed the rice in the pan with a little more force than necessary.
"Does she have a gambling problem or something?" I asked, sliding the neatly chopped veggies into a bowl.
Shizune sighed again, clearly exasperated. "Or something…"
Curiosity piqued, I pressed further. "Care to elaborate?"
"Lady Tsunade has… let's call it a streak of bad luck," Shizune admitted, dumping the vegetables I'd just chopped into the pan. The vibrant colors mixed with the golden rice as she stirred. "She loves gambling, but she almost always loses. If she's winning, it's usually a sign something terrible is about to happen."
"So she's not just bad at it?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Shizune laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, she's not. It's almost like fate itself is against her when it comes to gambling. But she keeps going back, convinced her luck will turn around one day."
I chuckled, imagining the powerful and intimidating Tsunade hunched over a table, cursing her losses. "Well, here's hoping she doesn't bet away the room money."
Shizune gave me a rueful smile. "That's why I keep an eye on our funds. Someone has to be responsible."
"Sounds like you've got your hands full," I said, grabbing some plates from a nearby cupboard.
"You have no idea," she replied, her tone light but with an undercurrent of exhaustion.
We worked together in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the sound of sizzling rice and the clatter of utensils filling the room. By the time we finished, the fried rice was plated and ready to eat.
"Thanks for the help," Shizune said, setting the plates on the small table.
It was just in time for Tsunade to walk back into the hotel room… carrying a small pink pig for some reason. She set the pig down and joined us at the table.
"I didn't lose everything today!" Tsunade said proudly before grinning at me. "Maybe you're my good luck charm."
I gave her a wry smile. "Maybe."
As we started to eat, Tsunade explained that the Elemental Nations were kind of a dangerous place. She wanted to know if I was capable of defending myself if we traveled together.
Shizune added, "It doesn't happen often, but occasionally, some bounty hunters… or debt collectors come after us."
"One of those is not like the other," I joked, and Tsunade pouted at me cutely.
"So, do you know how to fight or protect yourself?" Tsunade asked, her tone more serious this time.
I paused for a moment, thinking. Did I know how to fight? Not really. I could throw a punch, sure, but that was about it. "Beyond that," I began, "I have my fallen angel bloodline."
For the first time in over eight years, I felt my pitch-black fallen angel wings pop out from behind me. The sensation was strange but familiar, like stretching a part of myself I hadn't used in forever.
Shizune and Tsunade both gaped at the sight of them.
"Beautiful," Shizune said, standing up. Tsunade immediately joined her, and they walked over to inspect my wings.
I blushed as I felt both women running their hands all over the feathers, stroking the soft plumage. I hadn't quite remembered how sensitive they were until now, and a shiver ran down my spine.
Shizune continued gently rubbing my wings, but Tsunade was the first to notice my reaction. She gave me a wink and almost sensually ran her hands up and down the feathers a few more times before playfully saying, "We should stop. It looks like Blake's getting excited."
Shizune saw my face and immediately blushed. "You should have told me your wings were erogenous zones!" she squeaked.
"I didn't know," I said quickly, my heart pounding. My pants suddenly felt a little tight, and I did my best to calm down despite Tsunade's teasing commentary.
Tsunade and Shizune finally stepped back, and the blonde woman asked, "What else can you do besides flying?"
"I can create Lightspears," I said, summoning one in my hand. Its bright, glowing edges hummed softly. "Like the one that almost killed me earlier," I added, reminding them of my close call.
"Oh… was the person who tried to kill you from your clan?" Tsunade asked curiously.
"I guess so…?" I admitted. "Technically, all angels and fallen angels are siblings, so I guess that makes that Kokabiel asshole my uncle." I frowned, the bitterness rising in my chest. "I have no idea why he tried to murder me, though, beyond hating my father. A father who's never come looking for me in all these years," I added, gritting my teeth.
Tsunade's expression softened slightly, but she quickly changed the subject. "I'd like to practice with you tomorrow. You'll never be a proper ninja because that takes literal years of training you just don't have, but that doesn't mean you can't be strong in your own way. Being able to fly is already a massive advantage."
"That makes sense," I said with a nod.
"Still," she continued, "I want to teach you some basic taijutsu. You can't fly if you're indoors or if someone catches you off guard."
I nodded again, smiling. "Thanks for offering to help me out even more."
…
The next day…
I sat on a tree stump, staring at the forest around me but not really seeing it. My thoughts were elsewhere, fragmented like a broken mirror slowly piecing itself back together. My memories felt like they belonged to two completely different people. One was a normal kid, living a rough eight years in a system that didn't care. Foster homes filled with fanatical, Bible-thumping zealots who thought corporal punishment was God's divine mandate. And the other? A nephilim, the fallen angel's child.
If those foster parents ever found out that the kid they were hitting with their belts and rulers was a literal half-angel, they probably would've had a meltdown. The irony was almost funny if it weren't so twisted.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps. I looked up, and there she was—Tsunade. Her smirk was sharp and confident, her beauty impossible to ignore. Damn, she was hot. Her tight black shorts clung to her hips, and her white T-shirt hugged her chest in a way that made it impossible not to notice her curves. My eyes lingered for half a second too long.
She caught me. Her smirk widened, and she gave me a playful wink. "You know, Blake, I don't mind an appreciative glance from a handsome young man," she said, folding her arms under her chest. "But there's a time and place for that."
Heat rose to my face as I stood up quickly, trying to shake off my embarrassment. "Sorry," I mumbled, cursing myself internally. Way to make it awkward, idiot.
She let out a laugh, a warm sound that somehow made me feel both embarrassed and reassured. "Relax, kid. You're not the first to look, and you won't be the last. But we've got work to do."
Tsunade wasted no time getting into the lesson, starting with the absolute basics. She explained that while she didn't expect me to become a master anytime soon, I needed to know enough to hold my own. The way she described it, these were the fundamentals that everyone should know—stances, strikes, and blocks.
"Alright, Blake, first things first—your stance," she said, moving in front of me. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, showing me the position. "Balance is key. You don't want to be too stiff, but if you're loose, you'll be easy to knock over."
I did my best to mimic her, shifting my feet into place, but her frown told me I wasn't quite getting it. She walked around me, scrutinizing my posture. "Not bad, but you're leaning too far forward. And your feet are too close together."
Before I could adjust, I felt her step behind me. Her hands gently but firmly guided my shoulders back, and then she ran her fingers down my arms, adjusting my elbows and correcting my posture. Her chest pressed against my back, soft yet distracting, and her warm breath brushed against my ear as she spoke. "There, that's better. Feel the difference?"
I felt something, alright, and it wasn't just the stance. My cheeks flushed as heat spread through my body. My heart was racing, and my mind was filled with thoughts I didn't want to acknowledge. Dammit… I'm turned on again. Why? This never used to happen to me before—at least, not like this.
Then it hit me.
Oh. That's why. I was a nephilim. Half fallen angel. A creature of sin and desire. That part of me had been sealed away for half my life, and now that it wasn't, I was experiencing all these new feelings and urges for the first time.
I subtly adjusted my pants, hoping Tsunade wouldn't notice. If she did, she didn't comment, but the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips told me she wasn't oblivious. Still, she chose not to tease me further, and for that, I was grateful.
"Good. Now let's move on to punches," she said, stepping in front of me again. "You need to keep your fists tight and your elbows in. Throwing wild punches might look flashy, but you'll leave yourself wide open."
She demonstrated a quick, precise jab, then motioned for me to copy her. I tried, but it felt awkward and clumsy. Tsunade sighed and walked back over, taking my arm in hers. "No, no. You're putting too much power into it. It's not about strength—it's about precision. Watch your wrist, you don't want to break it on impact."
Her hands guided mine into the correct position again, her touch lingering just enough to make me even more self-conscious. I forced myself to focus, nodding as I adjusted my form. "Like this?"
"Better. Keep practicing that," she said, stepping back and crossing her arms. "And remember to breathe. If you hold your breath, you'll tire out faster."
As we continued going over proper punches and kicks, I slowly began to feel more comfortable with the movements. Tsunade corrected me less often, which I took as a good sign. Still, the occasional brush of her hand or the sound of her voice kept me distracted enough to stumble a few times. She didn't call me out on it, though, and I appreciated her restraint.
By the end of the lesson, my muscles were sore, and I was drenched in sweat, but I felt like I'd actually learned something. Tsunade handed me a water bottle with a small smile. "You did alright, Blake. Keep practicing, and you might not suck someday."
I chuckled weakly, taking the bottle and chugging it down. "Thanks… I think."
She smirked, turning to leave. "Let's head back for breakfast…"
XXX