Director

The early morning air was crisp, tinged with the faint scent of dew-covered grass. The training grounds were quiet save for the rhythmic thud of my strikes against the practice dummy. By the time the first rays of sunlight peaked over the horizon, I had already completed my daily objectives. There was a satisfying ding in the back of my mind, the system rewarding my efforts.

System Notification:

The familiar sense of accomplishment washed over me, but I quickly pushed it aside. Today was going to be a long day, and I wasn't about to start it with arrogance. I grabbed a towel, wiped the sweat from my face, and made my way back to the manor for breakfast.

The dining room felt different the moment I stepped inside. My mother and sister, Tomoe, were already seated, their expressions unusually somber. My mother, Sayuri, sat with her back straight, her delicate features betraying the worry she tried so hard to mask. Her long, dark hair was tied neatly into a low bun, and her soft, almond-shaped eyes darted toward me the moment I entered.

Tomoe, on the other hand, was a study in contradictions. At seventeen, she had the fiery spirit of someone who refused to be overlooked. Her short-cropped hair framed her sharp features, and her dark eyes were always filled with mischief—or, in this case, barely contained frustration. Her arms were crossed, her chopsticks untouched on the table.

"Good morning." I greeted, my voice breaking the heavy silence.

They both looked at me, but neither spoke. Ah. So that's how it's going to be.

I sat down, helping myself to the steamed rice and grilled fish that had been meticulously prepared by my mother. The silence stretched on, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on all of us.

Finally, my mother spoke, her voice quiet but firm. "Takeda… this is your first time leaving the manor. I understand this is your father's order, but still…" Her hands trembled slightly as she set her cup of tea down. "Please be careful, my son."

I met her gaze, the worry in her eyes cutting through my usual confidence. "Don't worry, Mother. I've spent the past two years honing my skills. I promise I'll make you proud."

She nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Tomoe, however, had no such restraint. She slammed her chopsticks onto the table, the sound startling even me. "Why does he get to leave?" she snapped, glaring at no one in particular. "He's just a kid, and Father expects him to survive in a samurai academy? It's ridiculous!"

"Tomoe…" Sayuri's voice was soft, a gentle warning.

"It's fine ." I said, raising a hand to calm them both. I turned to Tomoe, my smirk teasing. "Admit it—you're just mad you'll miss me."m

Tomoe's face flushed, and she crossed her arms, scowling. "As if! I just don't want to deal with Mother fussing over whether you're eating properly or making friends."

I chuckled. Despite her sharp tongue, Tomoe's concern was obvious. She'd always been protective, though she'd rather eat glass than admit it. "I'll be fine. When I come back, I'll be strong enough to protect all of you."

Her scowl softened, and she muttered under her breath, "You'd better."

As we finished breakfast, my father entered the room, his presence commanding as always. Takeshi Hanzo was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. His tall, broad-shouldered frame exuded strength, and his piercing gaze seemed to see straight through me.

"Takeda." he said, his voice even but firm. "The director of the academy is here. Come greet him and show your respects."

"Yes, Father."

I followed him outside to the courtyard, where a man waited. The moment I stepped into his presence, I felt it—a powerful aura that pressed against my skin like an invisible force.

The man stood casually, his stubbled beard and sharp features giving him a rugged appearance. His hair was tied into a loose man bun, and his kimono, though simple, hinted at someone who valued practicality over extravagance. A sheathed sword rested at his hip, its presence as intimidating as the man's calm demeanor.

I clasped my hands together and bowed deeply. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Director. Thank you for this opportunity."

The man studied me for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. "So, you're Takeshi's son, huh? Interesting. I can already tell you've got some fire in you."

"My name is Jin Musashi." he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Director of Ember Academy. Now tell me, boy—why do you want to join my academy?"

"I want to learn more about the world." I said honestly. "And to understand the power that resides within it. I want to become stronger."

He chuckled, his grin widening. "Well said. You're more mature than you look, I'll give you that. But words are cheap. Let's see if you can back them up."

He stepped back, drawing his sword in one smooth motion. "Spar with me, boy. If I'm going to sponsor you into my academy, I need to know you're worth my time."

"Yes, sir." I grabbed a wooden sword from the rack nearby, my grip steady despite the tingling anticipation.

System Notification:

 

 

 

 

 

Kill the director? I blinked, shaking the thought away. Let's just focus on surviving.

We squared off, his stance relaxed yet unyielding. I darted forward, my movements a blur as I aimed a strike at his side. He parried effortlessly, countering with a palm strike to my stomach that sent me flying backward.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself back to my feet. Charging again, I feinted to the left, switching my grip mid-strike to catch him off guard. This time, my sword connected, grazing his arm.

Jin stumbled slightly, his grin widening in approval. "You're not bad, brat. Not bad at all."

System Notification:

 

 

Jin sheathed his sword, his expression one of satisfaction. "You've got potential, Takeda. I'm looking forward to seeing how far you can go."

—————-—————-—————-——

Back in my room, I opened my inventory, my mind buzzing with anticipation. "Open."

System Notification:

 

 

 

Phantom Step?

"Inspect skill." I thought.

Skill Description:

I stared at the description, a grin creeping across my face. This was incredible. The system's rewards were no joke.

With my belongings packed and the weight of farewells lingering, I stood at the manor gate. My family gathered around me, each of them holding back their emotions in their own way.

My mother, Sayuri, stepped forward first. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the strap of my bag, her soft eyes filled with unshed tears. "Takeda, remember to stay true to yourself." she said, her voice quivering. "Be kind when you can, strong when you must. And please… don't push yourself too hard."

I gave her a reassuring smile, hoping to ease the tension. "I'll be careful, Mother. I promise."

Her lips curved into a faint smile, but the sadness in her gaze didn't waver. She cupped my face gently, her warmth grounding me for a moment. "You've grown so much." she whispered, almost to herself. "Make us proud, my son."

Next was Tomoe. She sauntered forward, her usual bravado masking the glint of moisture in her eyes. "Don't think you're special just because Father and the director like you," she said, crossing her arms. "You're still my annoying little brother."

I smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Admit it, you'll miss me."

She scoffed, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "Like hell I will! But… you better come back stronger. I'll be embarrassed if my brother is anything less than the best at that academy."

Her tough exterior wavered as she suddenly pulled me into a tight hug, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Stay safe, idiot."

I hugged her back, the weight of her words settling in my chest. "I will, I promise."

Finally, my father, Takeshi, stepped forward. He placed a firm hand on my shoulder, his gaze sharp but filled with a rare pride. "Takeda, you are a Hanzo, born to the shadows." he said, his voice steady. "This world will test you in ways you can't imagine. But no matter what, remember who you are. Remember what I've taught you."

I nodded, my expression resolute. "I won't forget, Father. When I return, I'll exceed all your expectations."

His lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, and he gave me a single, approving nod.

Jin Musashi waited a few steps away, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold with a faint smirk. "Done with all the mushy stuff?" he teased. "Good. We've got a long road ahead of us."

I turned back to my family one last time, memorizing the way they looked in the golden light of morning. My mother's gentle smile, Tomoe's defiant scowl, and my father's unyielding strength.

"I'll make you proud." I said, more to myself than anyone else.

As Jin and I began our journey, the weight of the manor and everything it represented fell away with each step. The dirt road stretched ahead, winding through forests and hills, the horizon promising a world far greater than the confines of my childhood.

We walked in silence for the first hour, the only sounds the crunch of our boots on the path and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Jin's aura was as commanding as ever, and though he seemed relaxed, I could feel the weight of his presence like a constant pressure at my back.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Your father didn't tell me much about you." he said, his tone conversational. "But I can see the potential. So, tell me, Takeda Hanzo—what drives you? Why are you so eager to get stronger?"

I hesitated, considering my answer. The truth? Or a carefully crafted lie?

"I want to protect the people I care about." I said, settling on a half-truth. "And… I want to see how far I can go. What I'm capable of."

Jin glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "A noble goal." he said after a moment. "But strength for the sake of strength is a dangerous path. Remember that, kid."

I nodded, though his words lingered in my mind. Strength for the sake of strength… isn't that what I've always sought?

As the day wore on, we passed through villages and rolling fields, the scenery shifting with each mile. Jin was surprisingly good company, filling the silence with stories of his time at the academy and the students who had passed through its halls.

"They're not all nobles, you know." he said, his tone light. "We get a few wanderers, like you. Orphans, outcasts… people with something to prove."

I listened intently, filing away every detail. The academy wasn't just a place to learn—it was a battlefield of ambition.

By the time we made camp that night, my body ached from the day's journey, but my mind buzzed with anticipation. As I lay beneath the stars, staring up at the vast, unfamiliar sky, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.

The academy was more than just a stepping stone. It was a proving ground—a place to refine my skills, test my limits, and uncover the mysteries of this world.

And I would conquer it.

System Notification:

 

 

I smiled, letting the soft ding of the system pull me into sleep.