Snow crunched under Rai's feet as he stepped into the courtyard of the mountain dojo, his hand gripping the sleeve of the boy who had saved him.
Renji.The only warmth Rai had felt since his mother's touch.
They walked side by side, the younger boy limping in silence, wrapped in fresh clothes, but still looking like a ghost. His hair — white, messy, unnatural. His skin — dark, bruised, cut. His eyes — pitch black and lifeless.
A storm in the shape of a child.
Twenty students stood in loose formation around the yard.All around 14 to 16 years old.Some sharpening wooden swords. Others stretching. A few just staring at the newcomer with barely-hidden disgust.
One whispered to another:
"What's with his hair…?""His eyes. They're… dead.""Is he even human?""He looks like something that crawled out the forest…"
Their whispers slithered like snakes through the air.
Rai heard every word.
He didn't speak. He didn't move.
He just hid behind Renji like a shadow — and for the first time since the torture…he cried.
Not loud.Not with sobs.
Just silent tears streaming down his cheeks.No expression.No sound.Just pain.So much pain — it spilled out without needing a voice.
Renji felt the tug on his robe and glanced back. His heart dropped.
"Master," he called out, his voice sharper now. "He's ready to meet you."
And then, he arrived.
A tall figure stepped down from the training hall.Clad in dark robes, arms exposed, revealing a body carved from war.Scars laced his shoulders and forearms like history etched in skin.His face was stone — serious, cold, unreadable.
The Master of the Dojo.
He stood with the air of a man twice his age…But the truth was: he was only eighteen.No one knew.No one dared ask.
He walked past the students, ignoring their curiosity.
He stopped in front of Renji and Rai.
He looked down at the boy behind him — the trembling hands, the filthy white hair, the swollen, teary eyes.
He said nothing at first.
Then, without turning, he spoke.
His voice was deep. Calm. Sharp like frost.
"Do you all think strength is how clean your uniform is?""How sharp your sword looks?""How normal you appear to the world?"
The whispers stopped.
Everyone went quiet.
"This child walked through death. Alone. Abused. Hated.And yet… he is here."
He turned slowly, eyes sweeping across every student.
"You mock what you don't understand.You whisper because you are weak."
A heavy silence dropped across the courtyard.
Every student looked down in shame.Even the proudest.
Because now — they saw it.
He was just a boy.
Small. Broken. Crying without sound.Eyes begging for a reason not to disappear.
The Master stepped forward.
He crouched in front of Rai. For the first time in years, his voice softened — not by much, but just enough.
"What is your name?"
Rai blinked through tears.
"R-Rai… Tsuki."
The Master nodded.
"You may cry here, Rai Tsuki.But if you choose to stay…You will become strong enough that no one will ever make you cry again."
He stood and faced the others.
"From this day forward —He is one of us."