Chapter 17: The Path Chosen by Fate

The midday sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the worn training ground.

Kaito stood in the center, drenched in sweat, lightning crackling at his fingertips. Small sparks danced between his knuckles—unsteady, flickering in and out like stubborn fireflies.

Maito and I sat off to the side, watching him battle the element's wild rhythm.

I wasn't really watching, though.

My thoughts were still buried in what Maito had told me earlier—about my past. My origin.

I hadn't processed it. Maybe I didn't want to.

Then a voice cut through the air—sharp and unmistakable.

"You all look troubled."

We turned as Ryoji Kasama approached, his presence shifting the air like a stormcloud. Calm on the outside. Pressure underneath.

His eyes scanned each of us. Not judging. Just… seeing.

Kaito, mid-cast, dropped his stance immediately. His posture straightened like a soldier caught slouching.

Ryoji crossed his arms. "Everyone here's carrying something. I can see it in your eyes."

I glanced at Maito. He didn't deny it—just shrugged.

Ryoji stepped closer and placed a hand on Kaito's shoulder. "And yet… this boy's still moving forward. Still training. What about the rest of you?"

Kaito grinned, chest puffed out. "That's 'cause I'm the best, obviously."

Maito rolled his eyes. "You just don't want to get scolded."

I chuckled, but then Ryoji's voice shifted—lower, firmer.

"Listen carefully. None of you met by accident."

We went quiet. Even the wind seemed to hush.

"There's no such thing as coincidence," Ryoji said. "The world doesn't throw dice. Every path, every meeting—it's chosen. Not random."

His eyes locked onto mine.

"You too, Hiroshi."

My chest tightened.

"You were brought here for a reason. You may not see it yet. But you will."

A beat of silence passed.

Maito spoke up. "And us?"

Ryoji smirked faintly. "The same. Each of you was meant to walk this path. Whether you accept it or not—that's on you."

He turned back to Kaito. "Struggling, falling, failing—it means nothing if you keep moving. That's what makes progress."

Kaito raised his chin, proud. "Father finally admits I'm amazing."

Whack.

Maito flicked him on the forehead. "Don't get cocky, dumbass."

Ryoji sighed. "Enough. I didn't come just to lecture."

His tone dropped, serious. We sat up straighter.

"There's a reason I trained you, Hiroshi," he said. "And why Maito's returned now. Things are moving faster than we thought."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

He didn't answer right away.

He looked up at the sky—like he was searching for the words there.

Then he said it:

"A storm is coming."

It wasn't metaphorical.

The moment he said it, the wind shifted. The air changed.

Kaito's smile faded.

Maito's brows furrowed.

And I—

I felt it in my bones.

This wasn't training anymore.

This wasn't about sparring or control.

This was a warning.

And something deep inside me whispered:

We're not ready.