Stone shattered like glass.
The shrine's walls buckled inward, symbols bleeding light. The basin cracked wide open, its water evaporating into threads of chakra that swirled like a dying storm. Dust filled the air, thick as fog.
The masked figure stepped through the debris, robes flowing like old paper. Despite the destruction, he moved with eerie calm.
Takeshi stepped in front of the team, kunai already drawn. "Identify yourself."
The figure tilted his head.
"Once," he rasped, "I wore the same headband you do. I held your oaths. But the storm doesn't honor borders. It calls its own."
His voice carried no emotion. Only memory.
Kaito took a step forward, heart pounding. "You said I woke something."
"You didn't wake it," the man said. "You are it. A spark from the old lightning — the bloodline that was sealed before this village was ever born. You carry the last storm."
Hinata's eyes widened. "Bloodline… Dojutsu?"
"No," the figure said. "Worse. Purer. From a time when chakra was raw. Before clans, before nations. The children of thunder."
Rei swallowed. "Yeah, cool exposition, creepy mask guy. What exactly do you want?"
The man looked directly at Kaito. "To show him the cost."
And then — he moved.
He was fast. Too fast.
In a blink, he was behind Takeshi. A strike of wind sent the jonin flying into the far wall with a crash of stone. Hinata leapt forward, palm glowing — but the man sidestepped gracefully, tapping her wrist and sending her spinning backward.
Rei threw two kunai.
The man didn't dodge them.
The kunai stopped in midair, suspended as if caught in molasses — then crumpled inward, crushed by pressure alone.
Kuro barked and charged, teeth bared.
"Wait—!" Rei shouted.
Too late.
A pulse of chakra burst from the man — not violent, but heavy, suffocating. Kuro yelped and collapsed midair, not harmed… but frozen. As if the weight of presence alone had paralyzed him.
Only Kaito stood unaffected.
The masked figure turned toward him.
"You feel it, don't you? The pressure. The memory. The part of you waking that was never taught — only inherited."
Kaito didn't respond.
But inside, he did feel it. A current beneath his skin. A storm behind his heart. A question in his blood, screaming for an answer.
The man extended a hand.
"Come with me. Learn what you are. Or stay, and keep pretending you're just another shinobi."
Kaito's fingers twitched. The wind shifted around him.
Rei shouted from behind. "Kaito—don't listen to him! You don't have to—"
"I'm not going anywhere," Kaito said.
And then his chakra flared.
The air rippled outward. Dust lifted from the ground. Symbols on the walls flickered. Kaito's eyes burned — not with dojutsu, but with light. Silver-white stormlight pulsed like heat lightning behind a veil.
The masked figure didn't flinch.
"So you've chosen the Leaf."
"I've chosen myself."
Then Kaito moved.
He didn't know the technique.
Didn't know the stance.
But his body did.
His palm swept outward — and the air bent. Not just wind. Space. A compression burst struck the masked figure square in the chest, blasting him into the far wall.
The shrine groaned.
The ground fractured.
But the figure only laughed. Low. Dry.
"You're farther along than I thought."
He rose from the rubble, mask cracked slightly, revealing just a glimpse of a scarred mouth.
"We will meet again, Kaito of the Hidden Storm. And next time, you will not have a choice."
Then his body flickered — not through Shunshin, but something deeper — a slip between currents of chakra.
And he vanished.
The shrine collapsed fully moments later. Takeshi emerged from the rubble limping, but alert. Hinata helped Kuro to his feet. Rei dusted off his jacket with shaking hands.
"What the actual hell," he muttered.
Kaito stood in the center of the wreckage, chest heaving, eyes still glowing faintly.
"I think," Takeshi said slowly, "it's time we had a talk with the Hokage."
They returned to the Leaf two days later.
Kaito barely remembered the journey.
Everything felt heavier now. Like the world had shifted and he was the only one who noticed.
They were escorted directly into the Hokage's Tower. Through back corridors. Not the main entrance.
Something official.
Something classified.
They entered a chamber beneath the tower — lined with stone and silence.
Tsunade stood waiting. Arms crossed. Eyes hard.
Behind her, Shikamaru leaned against the wall, face unreadable.
"I was told this was a reconnaissance mission," Tsunade said.
Takeshi knelt. "That was before the ANBU survivor appeared."
Tsunade's eyes flicked to Kaito. "You. What did he say to you?"
Kaito hesitated. "He said I carry a storm. That I… come from something older."
Shikamaru finally spoke.
"There's a scroll. Locked since the Third's era. References something called Project Raijin. Restricted beyond ANBU clearance."
Tsunade closed her eyes. "And now it breathes again."
Rei stepped forward. "Hey. With all due respect — what does this mean for us? For him?"
Tsunade met Kaito's gaze.
"It means you're no longer just a genin. You're a variable."
Kaito swallowed.
"And we don't know," she added, "whether that makes you a weapon… or a target."