With Gaki and several other sensei having left the Yami District in search of truth and a cure, the winds of change began to stir within the Academy.
Under the guidance of Sensei Shidou, Kimikage and Katakuichi continued their training in earnest. The once-rookie duo had now ascended to Grade 2, their skills sharpened through discipline, raw talent, and the harsh truths they'd learned about the world. Nozomi, once Gaki's sole pupil, had joined them—forming a new trio under Shidou's mentorship. With Gaki gone, Shidou had quietly stepped into the role of their mentor, carrying the torch forward.
Their bond was far from ordinary. Shidou didn't coddle—he taught through trial, through silence, and through trust. And now, he would guide them toward Grade 3. But that day had yet to come.
Today was for proving themselves.
The Exchange Event was an annual tradition—where students of every grade were tested not only on strength, but teamwork, creativity, and adaptation. It was a festival of ability, a theater of talent where every student showcased what they had learned from their sensei.
Excitement buzzed through the open training field. Rows of students in traditional uniforms lined up, their clan symbols stitched proudly into their sleeves. The higher-ups watched from a raised platform, silent and observant.
Trumpets blared. The announcer's voice rang through the sky.
"Let the Annual Exchange Event… begin!"
Grade 1 students were called first.
As cheers rose from the crowd, Class A and Class B stepped forward. Each student stood tall, facing one another. Friends turned to rivals for a single moment. Pride, nerves, and anticipation filled the air like charged lightning.
Class A vs Class B—the first match.
They bowed.
They stepped back.
And then...
The signal was given.
The tension was palpable as the first-years squared off, eyes locked and fists clenched. Though they were new to the world of shinobi combat, their determination was anything but amateur.
Class A, known for their discipline and precise teamwork, stood across from Class B, a wilder, more aggressive unit known for overwhelming power and individual flair. On paper, Class B had the edge in raw strength. But Class A had something better—strategy.
The horn blared.
The battle began.
Round One: Shadow Step Ambush
Class B launched first. Their leader, a brute of a student named Renji, charged head-on, wielding a massive war club imbued with low-level shadow energy. His teammates followed closely—one unleashed shuriken imbued with wind chakra, another fired bursts of flame from his palms.
But Class A didn't flinch.
Their leader, Saya, gave a quiet signal. With a burst of smoke, their formation split. One member, Hatsu, used Shadow Step, vanishing and reappearing behind Class B's formation. While Renji swung forward, Hatsu wrapped his shadow around the wind user's legs and yanked him into the dirt.
"Focus on teamwork, not ego," Saya whispered, launching a flurry of kunai aimed at disabling rather than injuring.
Round Two: The Decoy and the Net
Renji roared in anger, charging blindly. That's what Saya had been waiting for.
Class A's smallest member, Kaoru, stepped forward. He wore no weapons. Instead, he carried scrolls. As Renji approached, Kaoru unraveled one—unleashing a hidden binding net technique that shimmered with chakra threads. It wrapped around Renji's limbs and torso, halting him mid-strike.
He screamed, struggling.
"Now!" Saya ordered.
A synchronized barrage of shadow spikes and paper bombs surrounded Class B's remaining fighters, forcing them into retreat.
Final Round: Unity over Power
One by one, Class B fell into disarray. Their flame user accidentally struck his own teammate with a misdirected burst. The remaining two tried to flee and regroup, but were funneled into a trap—Saya and Hatsu blocking the front, Kaoru blocking the back with another scroll.
They surrendered.
The horn blew again.
Victory: Class A
"Winner of the first Grade 1 Exchange Battle—Class A!"
Cheers erupted from the crowd. Teachers from the viewing deck nodded approvingly.
As the smoke settled and healers moved in to treat the bruised and exhausted, Class A regrouped.
"We're not stronger," Saya said softly to her team, "we're smarter. That's what shinobi should be."
Kaoru and Hatsu nodded, proud—not just of the victory, but of how far they had come in such a short time.
Aftermath: The Smoldering Flame
The battlefield was silent save for the rustle of leaves and the light tapping of the healers' sandals as they moved in.
Renji sat on his knees, fists clenched into the dirt. His war club lay cracked beside him, still faintly smoldering with the remnants of his shadow flame—a rare but unstable fusion technique that only a few in the academy possessed. His breathing was heavy, teeth gritted.
"How… how could we lose to them?"
He looked up, watching Saya and the rest of Class A walk away, victorious but humble. That burned more than the defeat itself.
"They fought like shinobi," a medic beside him offered. "Not like berserkers."
Renji slammed his fist into the ground, scorching the earth slightly.
"They had strategy. But next time… I'll crush them. I'll make them feel the burn of real power."
One of his teammates tried to calm him.
"Renji, it was just a training match."
"No," he growled, shadow flames sparking faintly around his shoulders. "It was a message. They want us to know we're beneath them. But I'm not staying beneath anyone."
He stood slowly, his eyes burning—not just with power, but with something more dangerous.
Resentment.
The instructors above watched closely. Sensei Masaki leaned toward Shidou.
"That one—Renji—he's got power, but no reins. If he doesn't learn to control that fire inside... he won't survive this world."
Shidou nodded, arms crossed.
"Or worse. He'll become exactly the kind of monster we train them to defeat."
Far across the courtyard, Renji watched Saya from a distance. She gave a small nod in respect.
He didn't return it.
This isn't over, he thought. Not by a long shot.
A voice rang out across the grounds.
"GRADE TWO MATCH… CLASS A VERSUS CLASS B. BEGIN!"
From the gates, Class A stepped forward—Kimikage, Katakuichi, and Nozomi—the trio under Sensei Shidou's elite training.
Their presence was heavy.
Kimikage adjusted his black gloves, his shadow tendrils humming just beneath the surface. Katakuichi's silver eyes narrowed, the faint shimmer of incorruptible energy flickering beneath his skin. Nozomi cracked her knuckles, smirking confidently, her body laced with subtle motion seals.
Across from them, Class B stood ready—but tense. The pressure from Class A was suffocating.
And above the arena, seated in the private observation platform…
Haru, the current vessel of Chernobog, watched silently. His one glowing eye pulsed faintly with void energy, lips curled in a slight smile. Shadows clung unnaturally to his seat despite the sun.
No one noticed at first.
Then his head jerked slightly to the side.
The grin faded, replaced by a hollow stillness.
A deep, inhuman voice echoed from Haru's throat—not his own.
"So this is the boy they call incorruptible…"
"Katakuichi."
"Katakuichi… soon, your body will be mine."
No one in the stands could hear it. But Katakuichi flinched suddenly—his instincts sensing something. Something old. Something monstrous.
Haru—or rather, Chernobog—leaned forward, his tone low and venomous.
"You were born untouched by the curse… but that's why you're perfect. No resistance. No decay. Just… purity. A vessel strong enough to hold all of me."
The shadow behind him curled like tendrils of smoke.
"The world fears me… and for good reason."
"But when I rise in your skin…"
"Together, we will burn this world to its knees."
A flicker—and Haru's body jolted back.
His face twisted in pain before his breathing steadied, and his expression returned to normal. But sweat trickled down his temple, and his hands trembled just slightly.
He exhaled.
"Not yet…" he muttered, voice back to his own.
But deep within…
Chernobog waited. Watching. Smiling.