Years passed, but the villagers of Kaigen did not forget.
They rebuilt their homes, patched their walls, and buried their dead—but they could not bury their fear. Not when the one who carried the beast still walked among them.
Raien Kurozawa, now twelve, lived on the edge of the village in a small wooden house built by Master Genzo, the village elder who had raised him like a grandson. The villagers called him that boy—never by name. They whispered when he passed, tightened their grips on their children, and turned their eyes away.
He could feel it. Every time.
Their hatred. Their fear. Their silence.
But the worst part was his own reflection.
He stood by a small stream, watching it ripple under the morning sun. His brown eyes stared back—until, just for a moment, they changed. Slits of molten gold replaced his irises. His pupils sharpened into vertical lines.
Raien staggered back, clutching his chest.
"I'm still here…"
The voice slithered into his thoughts—Kyūbakko, sealed within him. It was weaker than before, sleeping most days, but it stirred when Raien's emotions ran high—when he was angry, afraid, or alone.
And he was always alone.
Except for Mei Aoshira.
She was one of the few who didn't look at him with fear—at least not anymore. They used to train together as Spirit Initiates under Master Genzo's guidance. But after what happened on the Duskwood Patrol, even Mei had started keeping her distance.
Raien clenched his fists, remembering the mission.
Bandits had ambushed them in the woods. When one of them raised a blade toward Mei, something inside him snapped. The fox's power surged forward like a flame-starved wind. His body ignited with spirit fire. The bandits fled screaming—but so did Mei.
He hadn't hurt her.
But she had looked at him like everyone else did. Like a monster.
That evening, Raien returned to Genzo's hut.
The old man sat beside a lantern, carving a charm from spiritwood, his gnarled fingers surprisingly steady.
"You're brooding again," Genzo said without looking up.
Raien dropped his bag at the door. "They won't even look at me."
"They look," Genzo said. "Just not the way you want them to."
"I didn't ask for this," Raien muttered, voice low. "I didn't ask to have… that thing inside me."
Genzo finally met his eyes. "No one ever asks for the burdens worth carrying."
Raien looked down. "I'm scared… of losing control again."
The old man sighed and reached into a drawer, pulling out a small talisman etched with crimson runes.
"Your father made this for you before the sealing. It won't stop the fox, but it will help you focus. Wear it during training. And remember—your power doesn't define you."
Raien took the charm with shaking hands. The edges pulsed faintly with warmth.
"Thanks… Grandpa Genzo."
The old man smiled. "Now go get some rest. Tomorrow's Spirit Test Day. Time to show the others who you really are."