Their journey led them deep into the mountains, where legend spoke of a hidden temple—Tsukuyomi's sanctuary. It was said the first Kyūbi once stood before the moon god himself, seeking guidance. If anyone could help Aiko control her power, it would be the monks who guarded its secrets.
When they arrived, the temple's guardian, Master Genzo, was waiting. An elderly monk with weathered skin and knowing eyes, he studied Aiko as if reading the truth beneath her skin.
"You seek to master what lies within you," he said, his voice steady as stone. "But power without balance is a curse."
Under his guidance, Aiko began her trials. She learned to summon foxfire without it flaring beyond her will, to channel her foresight without losing herself to the visions. The process was grueling. Each mistake felt like failure, each loss of control a reminder of how easily the fire could consume her.
Ryou trained her in combat, honing her reflexes with each strike of his blade. His strikes were swift and unrelenting. "Trust your instincts," he urged, their wooden swords meeting in sharp cracks. "But don't let them rule you."
Mei, in turn, taught her the art of illusion and misdirection skills vital for the battles to come. "Fighting isn't always about power," she said, demonstrating how a simple flicker of light could deceive the eye. "It's about knowing what your enemy sees—and making sure they see what you want them to."
But Aiko's greatest trial came in the form of a vision. One night, beneath the full moon, she saw it—A city engulfed in flames. Shadows loomed over the streets, monstrous and writhing. And at its center, a pair of glowing eyes stared back at her, watching, waiting.
Master Genzo's voice echoed in her mind. The past and the future intertwine. You must uncover the truth of your bloodline before it is too late.
Aiko awoke with a gasp, her heart hammering. The vision felt too real, too close. And for the first time, she feared the answer to the question that had followed her since the beginning.
Who was she really?