The Young Rankers Academy loomed against the morning sky like something straight out of Ren's manga collection—a sprawling complex of traditional wooden buildings with curved tile roofs, surrounded by training grounds and meditation gardens. Stone statues of legendary Rankers stood guard at the main gate, their weathered faces frozen in eternal vigilance.
Ren clutched his small suitcase with white-knuckled fingers. His other hand remained firmly in his mother's grasp as they approached the imposing entrance. Inside his chest, his heart performed gymnastics worthy of "Acrobatic Ninja Squad, Volume 7."
*Breathe,* Kage's voice reminded him from within. *Remember the breathing technique I practiced last night while you slept.*
Ren obediently drew air slowly through his nose, held it for four counts, and released it through slightly parted lips. The technique helped, but only marginally. No amount of controlled breathing could fully quell the terror of facing an entirely new world without his mother as a buffer.
"It's quite impressive, isn't it?" Kaori said, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze. Her smile contained equal parts pride and poorly concealed worry. "Your father would be so proud to see you here."
The mention of his father—a mid-level Ranker who had died on a mission when Ren was just three—sent a complicated ripple of emotions through him. Pride, certainly. Curiosity about the man he barely remembered. And fear—fear of following the same path to the same end.
*That won't happen to us,* Kage assured him firmly. *We'll become far stronger than he ever was.*
A small, wiry man in a crisp indigo uniform approached as they reached the gate. His salt-and-pepper hair was cropped short, military-style, and a scar ran from his left temple to jawline, narrowly missing his eye. Despite his compact stature, he moved with the fluid grace of a predator.
"Kaori Himura," he greeted, bowing precisely. "It's been some time."
"Instructor Koda," Ren's mother replied, returning the bow. "Thank you for agreeing to meet us personally."
So this was the legendary Instructor Koda. Ren had expected someone more... imposing? The man looked like he could be blown away by a strong breeze. But there was something in his eyes—sharp, assessing, missing nothing—that suggested appearances were deeply deceiving.
Those penetrating eyes shifted to Ren, who immediately dropped his gaze to study the fascinating pattern of pebbles at his feet.
"And this is young Ren," Koda said, not as a question but a statement. "Master Tanaka has told me much about your unusual awakening."
Ren managed a jerky nod, words trapped behind his usual wall of anxiety.
*Bow properly,* Kage prompted. *First impressions matter.*
Obediently, Ren executed a bow that was surprisingly graceful—Kage's influence manifesting in his motor control.
Instructor Koda's eyebrows rose slightly. "Good form," he noted with clinical approval. "Unusual in one with no prior training."
"R-read it in m-manga," Ren mumbled, immediately wishing he could melt into the ground. Of all the things to say to his future instructor!
To his surprise, Koda didn't laugh or scowl. He simply nodded thoughtfully. "Books can be excellent teachers if approached with the right mindset. Though I imagine we'll need to correct some... creative interpretations."
Was that... humor? Ren hazarded a glance upward and caught something almost like amusement in the instructor's stern face.
"Shall we proceed to my office?" Koda suggested, gesturing toward the main building. "There are some final forms requiring your signature, Kaori-san, and then we can get Ren settled in his dormitory."
The reality of imminent separation crashed over Ren. He tightened his grip on his mother's hand, panic rising like a tide.
*I can't do this,* he thought desperately. *I can't stay here alone.*
*You're not alone,* Kage reminded him. *I'm with you. Always.*
The knowledge provided minimal comfort as they followed Instructor Koda across the immaculately kept grounds. Students in training uniforms similar to Koda's moved purposefully between buildings or practiced in designated areas. Some worked on basic martial forms, while others sat in meditation circles, pastel wisps of manifested soul cores hovering before them.
Everywhere Ren looked, children moved with purpose and confidence. None seemed lost or uncertain. None clutched their mother's hand like a lifeline.
"Staring won't make you invisible," a voice declared from nearby.
Ren nearly jumped out of his skin. A girl about his age had materialized beside their small procession, matching their pace with hands clasped behind her back. Her hair was pulled into practical twin braids, and a spattering of freckles dotted her nose. Most striking were her eyes—bright, curious, and currently fixed on Ren with unnerving intensity.
"I'm Mei Lin," she announced without preamble. "You're new."
Ren's throat closed completely. Responding to adults was difficult enough; unexpected peer interaction might as well be advanced calculus.
"M-m—" he tried, but nothing else emerged.
"His name is Ren Himura," his mother supplied smoothly. "Today is his first day."
"I figured," Mei said, still studying Ren as if he were a particularly interesting specimen. "New kids always have that 'about-to-faint' look. Don't worry, only about ten percent actually pass out during orientation."
"Mei Lin," Instructor Koda interjected without breaking stride or looking back, "don't you have meditation practice this hour?"
The girl grinned, entirely unrepentant. "Yes, sir! Just taking the scenic route. Thought I'd welcome our newest addition."
"Your dedication to academy hospitality is noted. Now return to your scheduled activities before I assign extra physical conditioning."
"Yes, sir!" Mei executed a perfect bow to Ren and his mother. "See you around, Ren Himura Who Doesn't Speak!" With that, she darted away, braids bouncing against her back.
"Is that typical of the students here?" Kaori asked, a note of concern in her voice.
Instructor Koda sighed—a sound that suggested long familiarity with Mei's antics. "Mei Lin is... unique. Brilliant but undisciplined. Her social exuberance balances her exceptional control over her soul core." He glanced at Ren. "You'll find all types here. Some quieter than others."
They reached the administrative building, where Koda ushered them into a modest office. Training schedules and student evaluations lined the walls, along with maps of the region marked with symbols Ren didn't recognize.
While his mother handled paperwork, Ren examined a display case containing what appeared to be various types of demon cores—crystallized remnants of defeated demons. Each glowed faintly with malevolent energy despite being purified and contained.
"Curious about demon cores, are you?" Instructor Koda appeared beside him, voice lower than before, meant for Ren alone.
Ren nodded, finding it slightly easier to communicate when not expected to speak.
"You'll learn all about them in your theoretical classes," Koda continued, selecting a key from his belt to unlock the case. He removed a small, ruby-colored crystal that pulsed with inner light. "This came from a minor flame imp—one of the weakest demon types. Yet even this small core contains enough malevolent energy to burn down a building if improperly handled."
He returned the core to its place, locking the case securely. "This is why we train young Rankers so thoroughly. Power without control is merely a danger to oneself and others."
Though not directly stated, Ren understood the message applied to his own unusual situation. His fragmented soul would require exceptional control.
"All set," Kaori announced, setting down her brush. "Just one parent's signature needed for once." The attempt at lightness couldn't mask the emotion in her voice.
Instructor Koda nodded. "I'll give you a moment for goodbyes, then show Ren to his dormitory." He stepped outside, sliding the door closed with surprising delicacy for a man of his obvious martial prowess.
The moment they were alone, Ren flung himself into his mother's arms, burying his face against her familiar lavender-scented robes. "I'm s-scared," he admitted, voice muffled.
"I know, my dreamer." Kaori stroked his hair gently. "But fear doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're trying something difficult and important."
She pulled back slightly, cupping his face in her flour-roughened hands. "Listen carefully. You are more than your stutter. More than your shyness. More even than this new power awakening inside you." Her eyes, so like his own, bored into him with fierce intensity. "You are Ren Himura, son of Kaori and Takeo. You are kind and imaginative and braver than you know."
"I d-don't feel brave."
"The bravest heroes rarely do." She smiled, thumbing away a tear he hadn't realized had escaped. "That's what makes them heroes—they act despite their fear, not in absence of it."
From within, Ren felt Kage's silent approval of these words.
"I'll v-visit soon?" he asked, hating how his voice lilted upward, making it a question rather than a statement.
"Every week on Rest Day," she promised. "I'll bring fresh pastries and news from the village. And you can tell me all about your training."
A gentle knock announced Instructor Koda's return. "It's time," he said simply.
The actual goodbye passed in a blur of final hugs, whispered encouragements, and promises to write. Then Ren stood at the academy gates, watching his mother's figure grow smaller as she walked back toward the village. With each step she took, the distance between his old life and new reality expanded.
*Don't look back too long,* Kage advised. *What lies ahead matters more now.*
Instructor Koda allowed him his moment of reflection before speaking. "Come. I'll show you to your quarters, then give you a brief tour before afternoon classes."
Ren followed wordlessly, clutching his suitcase like a shield as they entered the students' residential area—a long building divided into sections by age group. The youngest students, like Ren, occupied the easternmost wing.
"You'll share a room with one other student," Koda explained as they walked the polished wooden corridor. "We find that pairing promotes accountability and prepares Rankers for future field partnerships."
Ren's stomach twisted at the thought of a roommate—someone who would witness his awkwardness up close, day after day.
*Perhaps we can request a private room,* Kage suggested. *For safety, given our unique situation.*
Before Ren could work up the courage to make this request, Instructor Koda stopped at a door marked with the number seven.
"Here we are." He slid the door open, revealing a simple but comfortable room with two futons, two small desks, and storage chests for personal belongings. "Your roommate is currently in physical training. You'll meet him at dinner."
One side of the room already showed signs of occupation—a neatly made futon, training manuals stacked on the desk, and a wooden practice sword leaning in the corner.
"That will be your area," Koda indicated the empty half. "Get settled, then meet me in the courtyard in thirty minutes for your orientation tour."
Left alone, Ren stood frozen in the center of the room, overwhelmed by the finality of his situation. This small space would be his home for the foreseeable future. These unfamiliar walls would witness his struggles and triumphs. A stranger would sleep mere feet away.
*Unpack,* Kage prompted gently. *Creating order reduces anxiety.*
The practical suggestion broke through Ren's paralysis. He moved to his designated area and began carefully arranging his meager possessions. His five precious manga volumes occupied a place of honor on the desk. His mother had packed his favorite sleep shirt, softened by countless washings. Master Tanaka's crow token found a home beside his futon, within easy reach.
As he worked, Ren gradually felt ownership of the space taking root. By adding these small personal touches, the anonymous room began to feel marginally less threatening.
*Good,* Kage approved. *Now change into your training uniform. First impressions with the other students matter.*
The uniform Instructor Koda had provided—indigo like his own but with a white belt indicating beginner status—felt stiff and strange against Ren's skin. He adjusted the collar repeatedly, trying to achieve the sharp appearance of the students he'd observed earlier.
*Stop fidgeting,* Kage admonished. *Stand straight. Project confidence even if you don't feel it.*
"Easy for you to s-say," Ren muttered aloud. "You're not the one w-wearing it."
*Not yet,* came the cryptic response.
Before Ren could question this statement, a loud gong resonated across the academy grounds. Time for his orientation.
The courtyard swarmed with activity as classes changed. Students moved in orderly groups, some heading to training areas, others to classroom buildings. Ren pressed himself against a wall, trying to become invisible as he searched for Instructor Koda.
"Lost already?" came a familiar voice.
Ren turned to find Mei Lin grinning at him, her uniform slightly rumpled as if she'd recently been engaged in vigorous activity.
"I—" he began, then predictably stalled.
"Looking for Instructor Koda, right?" she supplied helpfully. "He got called to handle a training accident. Asked me to show you around instead." Her grin widened. "Lucky you!"
Alarm bells rang in Ren's mind. Was she telling the truth, or was this some kind of prank on the new kid?
*She's not lying,* Kage assessed. *Her body language shows no deception markers. But she's definitely enjoying your discomfort.*
"C-can't talk m-much," Ren managed to warn her, figuring it best to establish expectations immediately.
Mei waved dismissively. "So? I talk enough for three people. Mom says it's my best and worst quality simultaneously." She grabbed his wrist without warning. "Come on! If we hurry, we can catch the second-years' combat demonstration!"
Before Ren could protest, she was pulling him across the courtyard, chattering nonstop about academy life.
"Morning is theory classes—soul core basics, demon taxonomy, historical battles, boring stuff. Afternoons are for practical training—combat, meditation, mana refinement. That's the good stuff! Rest Day is for family visits or special lessons. The food's decent except fish day—avoid the fish cakes at all costs unless you enjoy stomach cramps!"
Ren struggled to process the information bombardment while simultaneously navigating the unfamiliar terrain. Mei moved at approximately twice the speed of a normal human, pulling him around corners and through passageways with the confidence of someone who had mapped every inch of the academy.
"That's the main training hall," she indicated a large building where the sounds of controlled combat echoed. "And over there are the meditation gardens—off-limits unless accompanied by an instructor. Oh! And that's the infirmary. You'll visit there lots as a first-year. I broke three fingers my first month!"
She delivered this information with disturbing cheerfulness, as if broken bones were a badge of honor.
"And THAT," she said with dramatic emphasis, stopping so suddenly that Ren nearly collided with her, "is Takashi Ono. Academy golden boy and professional pain in everyone's backside."
She pointed to a boy practicing alone in a smaller courtyard. Even Ren, with his limited martial arts knowledge, could tell the boy moved with exceptional skill. His forms were precise, each movement flowing into the next with liquid grace. Unlike the other students, his uniform bore subtle embroidery at the cuffs—a mark of clan affiliation.
"He's a s-second year?" Ren guessed, noticing the boy couldn't be much older than themselves.
"First year, like us," Mei corrected with obvious annoyance. "But he started private training at age four because his family is super important or whatever. The Ono clan has produced top-tier Rankers for generations, and Takashi never lets anyone forget it."
As if sensing their attention, the boy—Takashi—paused mid-form. His eyes, sharp and assessing, found them immediately. His gaze lingered on Ren for an uncomfortable moment before dismissing him entirely. The slight curl of his lip spoke volumes.
"Great, now he's seen us," Mei muttered. "Come on, let's continue the tour before he decides we're interrupting his precious practice."
Too late. Takashi was already approaching, his posture radiating confidence bordering on arrogance. Up close, Ren could see his features were classically handsome, with none of the awkward growth spurts that plagued other boys their age.
"New recruit?" Takashi addressed Mei, not bothering to look directly at Ren. "Seems the academy acceptance standards continue to decline."
Mei's freckled face flushed with anger. "The only declining standards are in manners, Ono. Would it kill you to introduce yourself properly?"
Takashi sighed as if deeply put upon, then turned to Ren with a perfunctory bow that managed to be technically correct while conveying maximum disinterest.
"Takashi Ono, heir to the Ono Ranker Clan, top student of the first-year class." The introduction was clearly rehearsed, a formality he'd repeated countless times. "And you are?"
Ren opened his mouth, but as usual, anxiety strangled his voice. The silence stretched uncomfortably.
"His name is Ren Himura," Mei supplied, glaring daggers at Takashi. "He just arrived today."
"Himura?" Takashi's eyebrows rose slightly. "Any relation to Takeo Himura?"
Ren nodded, surprised by the recognition of his father's name.
"The Barrier Specialist who died during the Seventh Prefecture incident?" Takashi clarified, suddenly showing marginally more interest. "I've studied that case. A textbook example of powerful technique undermined by hesitation at a critical moment."
Hot shame flooded Ren's cheeks. His father's death, reduced to a tactical error in a case study.
*Don't show weakness,* Kage warned sharply. *He's testing you.*
Something shifted inside Ren—not a full personality change, but Kage's influence bolstering his spine, steadying his voice.
"My f-father saved three villages," he said, the words emerging clearer than usual despite his stutter. "The m-mission parameters changed. He ch-chose lives over protocol."
Both Mei and Takashi looked startled by this unexpected defense. For a brief moment, something like respect flickered across Takashi's features before his mask of superiority returned.
"Noble sentiment," he said dismissively. "But ineffective strategy. A Ranker who dies leaves all future villages unprotected." He turned away, clearly considering the conversation finished. "If you'll excuse me, I have actual training to complete before afternoon assessments."
As Takashi returned to his practice area, Mei let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's the most I've ever heard you speak, AND you stood up to Takashi Ono on your first day." She bumped her shoulder against his companionably. "Maybe you're not as shy as you seem, huh?"
Ren flushed, the momentary confidence receding. Had that been him speaking, or Kage? The lines seemed increasingly blurry.
*Both,* Kage answered his unspoken question. *Your knowledge, my delivery.*
"Anyway," Mei continued, oblivious to his internal dialogue, "don't mind Takashi too much. He's actually the least horrible of the clan kids. The others won't even acknowledge commoners like us exist."
"Commoners?"
"Yeah, you know—regular kids without fancy clan backgrounds. Most students here come from Ranker families, but not all from established clans." She gestured to herself. "My mom runs a noodle shop and my dad's a carpenter. But I manifested a pretty strong earth-affinity core, so here I am!"
She spoke with obvious pride, unbothered by her "common" origins. Ren found her confidence both intimidating and oddly inspiring.
The tour continued at Mei's whirlwind pace. She showed him the mess hall, the library (which immediately became Ren's favorite location), the equipment room, and finally circled back to the main training yard where several instructors supervised students practicing basic forms.
"That's where you'll spend most of your first month," Mei explained. "Foundations, foundations, foundations. They won't let you do anything cool until you can perform the basic eight forms perfectly." She demonstrated a simple movement sequence with surprising precision given her otherwise boundless energy.
"And over there—" she pointed to a circular stone platform set apart from the main training areas, "—is where soul core materialization is taught. That's where the real fun begins!"
Ren observed students sitting in meditation postures, concentrating on manifesting their soul cores into external forms—wisps of elemental energy, glowing orbs, and in a few cases, rudimentary weapon shapes.
"C-can you manifest yours?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Mei's face lit up at being asked directly. "Sure can! Not supposed to outside of training, but..." She glanced around conspiratorially, then cupped her hands before her chest.
With impressive control for their age, a small sphere of earthy brown energy coalesced between her palms. Unlike the wispy manifestations of most students, hers had definite structure—like compacted soil held together by invisible force.
"Earth affinity," she explained proudly. "I can make it harder than steel for about thirty seconds before it drains my energy. Instructor Koda says with proper training, I could eventually manipulate terrain during combat."
She allowed the manifestation to dissipate. "What about yours? Master Tanaka must have had some idea when he recommended you, right?"
Ren hesitated. Kage had advised caution about revealing his unusual core...
*A partial truth will satisfy her curiosity without revealing too much,* Kage suggested.
"D-dark affinity," Ren said softly. "With a c-crow spirit."
Mei's eyes widened to comical proportions. "A spirit manifestation already? And a crow? That's super rare!" She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Can I see it? Just a little?"
Before Ren could decide how to respond, a sharp voice cut through their conversation.
"Mei Lin! Was your assignment to give a tour or to encourage unauthorized core manifestation?"
Instructor Koda approached with long strides, his expression making both children straighten instinctively.
"Just the tour, sir!" Mei replied, snapping to attention. "Completed efficiently and thoroughly as requested!"
"I see." Koda's stern gaze softened marginally. "Thank you, Mei. You may return to your scheduled activities now."
Recognizing dismissal when she heard it, Mei bowed to the instructor and gave Ren a small wave. "See you at dinner, Ren! Save me a seat, okay?" With that, she bounded away, seemingly incapable of normal-paced walking.
Instructor Koda watched her go with what Ren was beginning to recognize as his version of fond exasperation.
"Mei Lin possesses exceptional talent hampered only by her inability to follow simple instructions," he commented. "A common condition among young Rankers." He turned his attention to Ren. "I trust the tour was informative, if somewhat accelerated?"
Ren nodded, still processing the whirlwind of information Mei had provided.
"Good. We have time for a brief assessment before afternoon classes begin. I'd like to observe your core manifestation myself."
Anxiety spiked through Ren. Displaying his unusual core to Koda was one thing—the instructor had been briefed by Master Tanaka. But doing so where other students might see was another matter entirely.
Sensing his concern, Koda led him to a small, walled garden adjacent to the training grounds. "Private practice area," he explained. "Used for individualized instruction or students with unique training needs."
Once they were alone, Koda adopted a formal stance. "Show me your soul core manifestation, Ren. Don't concern yourself with control yet—I simply need to assess its nature firsthand."
Ren clutched Master Tanaka's token, using it as a focus point as instructed. He closed his eyes, picturing the crow from his dream, feeling for the dark energy that resided within his chest.
*I'll help,* Kage offered. *But be prepared—the manifestation will be stronger now that we've connected more fully.*
Drawing a steadying breath, Ren reached inward, finding the core of darkness that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. Instead of gently coaxing it outward as Master Tanaka had shown him, he felt Kage's influence guiding the energy, channeling it with surprising precision.
The result was immediate and dramatic. The black sphere manifested before him, significantly larger than his previous attempt, crimson veins pulsating with increased intensity. The crow shadow within had grown more defined, its wings spread in a recognizable silhouette.
Most startling, however, was the effect on the surrounding environment. Shadows in the garden lengthened subtly toward Ren, as if drawn by his manifestation. The temperature dropped noticeably, breath fogging in the suddenly chilled air.
Instructor Koda's eyes widened—the first genuine surprise Ren had seen him display. "Remarkable," he murmured, circling Ren with a specialist's assessing gaze. "Far beyond initial manifestation benchmarks. The environmental effect is particularly unusual for one so young."
Ren maintained the manifestation, finding it unexpectedly easy with Kage's assistance. Rather than draining his energy, the core seemed almost self-sustaining, drawing power from the surrounding shadows.
"Can you feel the crow spirit's presence?" Koda asked, his voice taking on the clinical tone of formal assessment.
"Y-yes," Ren confirmed. "It's... watching. From inside."
What he didn't explain was that the crow's presence had become entwined with Kage's—the spirit and the personality fragment working in tandem, bolstering each other.
"Try directing it," Koda instructed. "Nothing complex—simply attempt to move the core to your right."
Ren focused on the hovering sphere, imagining it shifting sideways. The core responded instantly, moving with fluid grace rather than the jerky motion typical of novice control.
"Now return it to center, then dismiss the manifestation."
These instructions proved equally simple under Kage's guidance. The core disappeared with none of the usual residual energy scatter that beginning Rankers struggled to manage.
Instructor Koda's expression had transformed from professional assessment to intense interest. "You've practiced this before today," he stated rather than asked.
"N-no, sir," Ren answered truthfully. "Just once, with M-Master Tanaka."
"Then your affinity is exceptional." Koda folded his arms, studying Ren with new eyes. "Or your... unique condition provides advantages."
*He suspects,* Kage noted. *But doesn't fully understand.*
"Has your other aspect communicated with you today?" Koda asked directly, confirming Kage's assessment.
Ren nodded, seeing no point in deception. "K-Kage. He... helps me. With things that are h-hard."
"I see." Koda stroked his chin thoughtfully. "This presents both opportunities and challenges for your training. Traditionally, students progress through standardized sequences, but your case will require customization."
He made a decision, nodding once sharply. "You'll join regular classes for theoretical subjects and basic physical conditioning. But your core training will occur in private sessions—with me directly."
Ren's eyes widened. Private training with the head instructor? Even he understood this was highly unusual.
"Until we better understand your dual nature, discretion seems prudent," Koda continued. "You may, of course, manifest your core during regular training sessions, but I suggest limiting it to basic techniques that won't draw undue attention."
*A wise precaution,* Kage agreed. *Until we understand our full capabilities, becoming a spectacle would be counterproductive.*
The academy gong sounded again, signaling afternoon sessions. Instructor Koda checked the position of the sun with practiced ease.
"That concludes our assessment for today. You'll begin regular classes tomorrow morning. For now, familiarize yourself with the academy grounds and prepare your equipment for tomorrow." He paused, then added with unexpected gentleness, "The first week is always difficult, Ren. Particularly for those unaccustomed to structured environments. But you have resources others lack."
The comment, clearly referencing Kage, struck Ren as surprisingly supportive. Perhaps Instructor Koda understood more than he revealed.
"One last thing," Koda said as they prepared to part ways. "Your roommate, Jun Takeda, is a second-year student. Normally we pair first-years together, but given your... unique situation, I thought someone with more experience might provide better support."
Ren's anxiety about meeting his roommate increased tenfold. A second-year? Wouldn't they resent being paired with a novice?
"J-Jun Takeda?"
"An excellent student with a refreshingly straightforward personality," Koda described, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. "His combat scores are top-tier, though his theoretical grades occasionally suffer from his enthusiasm for practical application over book learning." This last part was delivered with a hint of long-suffering resignation.
With a formal bow, Instructor Koda left Ren to his own devices until dinner. Suddenly alone in the vast academy, Ren felt the weight of his new reality descend fully upon his shoulders.
*Where should we go?* he asked Kage internally, finding it easier to avoid his stutter when communicating this way.
*The library,* came the immediate response. *Knowledge provides advantage. And it will be quieter there—fewer social demands.*
The suggestion aligned perfectly with Ren's own inclinations. With purpose in his step, he navigated back to the library Mei had shown him during their tour.
The academy library proved even more impressive upon closer inspection. Scrolls and bound volumes filled floor-to-ceiling shelves, organized by subject matter. Tables positioned near windows provided natural reading light, while private study alcoves offered secluded spaces for deeper concentration.
Best of all, the library was nearly empty this time of day, with most students engaged in physical training. Only a few older Rankers occupied reading tables, too focused on their studies to notice Ren's entrance.
*Perfect,* Kage approved. *Let's find materials on crow spirits and dual manifestations. Understanding our nature will accelerate our growth.*
For the next two hours, Ren lost himself in research, guided by Kage's surprisingly extensive knowledge of relevant texts. Together, they discovered scattered references to "shadow affinity" cores—rare manifestations associated with perception, stealth, and occasionally, precognition. Crow spirits, true to Master Tanaka's assessment, appeared infrequently in historical records, typically bonded to Rankers who served as scouts or spies rather than frontline combatants.
Most intriguing, however, was a single reference to "fragmented consciousness" in an ancient text describing unusual manifestations:
*"When the vessel contains multitudes, each aspect commands different domains of the core's potential. Integration brings greatest power, but separation offers specialized mastery. The divided soul walks many paths simultaneously."*
*That's us,* Kage noted with satisfaction. *We are not a defect but a specialized adaptation.*
The dinner gong interrupted their research. Ren carefully returned the texts to their proper places before making his way to the mess hall, Kage's confidence bolstering his own as he prepared to face his first meal among strangers.
The mess hall buzzed with conversation and activity. Students clustered at long tables according to apparent social hierarchies—clan members together in prestigious central positions, others organized roughly by year and ability. Instructors occupied a raised table at the front, maintaining watchful eyes over their charges.
Ren froze in the entranceway, overwhelmed by the noise and movement. Where should he sit? How did one navigate these unwritten rules?
"REN!" Mei's voice cut through the cacophony. She waved enthusiastically from a table near the windows, where several first-years sat together. "OVER HERE!"
Every head in the vicinity turned to stare at the new arrival. Ren's face burned with embarrassment as he shuffled toward Mei, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor.
"Saved you a seat," she announced proudly, patting the bench beside her. "Everyone, this is Ren Himura. He just arrived today and he doesn't talk much, so don't pester him with questions."
This introduction, while meant kindly, only intensified Ren's discomfort. The other first-years regarded him with varying degrees of curiosity.
"This is Hiroki," Mei continued, undeterred by Ren's obvious embarrassment. She pointed to a stocky boy across the table. "He has steel affinity. Super rare! And that's Yumi with wind affinity, and Daisuke with water."
Each student nodded in greeting. Ren managed a jerky bow from his seated position, still avoiding direct eye contact.
"What's your affinity, new kid?" Hiroki asked bluntly, sizing Ren up with open curiosity.
Before Ren could formulate a response, Mei jumped in. "Dark affinity! With a crow spirit! Isn't that cool?"
Silence fell over the immediate vicinity. Even conversations at neighboring tables paused as students processed this information.
*So much for discretion,*