Hi guys, author here!It's a new fanfic, so please share your thoughts in the comments and reviews.And if you like it, don't forget to drop some stones — they're a great motivator!
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Morning came too early.
The boy — Naoya — was woken by a servant shaking his shoulder lightly."Naoya-sama, it is time for morning training."
He sat up, groggy, hair sticking up in every direction. "Training? It's morning! People sleep in the morning!"
The servant froze. "Y-yes, but your father said if you're late again, the punishment—"
"I'm up! I'm up!" Naoya scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping on the futon as he tried to put on the heavy training robe. "Why is this thing so stiff? It's like armor made of bedsheets."
The servant looked like he wanted to laugh but wisely didn't.
By the time Naoya reached the training yard, the sun had barely risen. The courtyard was enormous — stone tiles, bamboo-lined walls, and several older clan members already sparring under the watchful eyes of the elders.
Naobito stood at the center, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
"You're late."
"I woke up late?" Naoya offered weakly.
"Excuses already," Naobito muttered. "Come here."
Naoya stepped forward, feeling the gazes of the older clan members prick at his skin. Some looked curious, others amused.
Naobito's gaze finally met his. "Today, we focus on cursed energy manipulation. You must learn to harness the power within you."
Naoya nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at him. He had no recollection of ever learning to control cursed energy. The concept was foreign — abstract.
Naobito demonstrated the basic stance: feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, hands held in a specific position. Naoya mimicked the movements, trying to focus, but his mind wandered.
"You must feel it," Naobito instructed, frowning as he watched the boy struggle to perform the stance correctly.
Sighing, Naobito corrected his form with his stick and asked, "Why do you think this form is necessary?"
"...Because that's how it's done," replied Naoya. Immediately, soft snickers erupted from the older trainees.
The elders and Naobito's glare landed on the said trainees, silencing them at once.
Naobito looked back at his son, who was staring up at him with a clueless expression.
"The cursed energy within you is the manifestation of your negative emotions — fear, anger, hatred, irritation, and so on. The more uncomfortable you are, the higher the chances of feeling this energy," explained Naobito, giving a sharp smack with his stick on Naoya's hands, which were starting to lower.
"Ow!" Naoya winced in pain, earning another glare from the Zenin clan head.
"Try to get a feel of your cursed energy," ordered Naobito, his gaze firm.
Naoya nodded seriously and closed his eyes. "Alright... energy of frustration within me…" he muttered.
He scrunched up his face in deep concentration. Seconds passed. Then a faint grrkkh noise escaped his stomach.
Naobito's brow twitched. "…Are you hungry?"
"Maybe the cursed energy is in my stomach?" Naoya said hopefully.
Hearing this, the older trainees snickered again until the elders and Naobito silenced them with a single glare.
Shaking his head, Naobito sighed and looked back at the boy. "Again," he ordered. "This time, focus properly."
Naoya tried again, taking a deep breath. This time, he felt something faint — a dull, restless pulse deep inside — but it fizzled out as soon as it appeared.
Nothing happened.
"…Did it work?" he asked, peeking one eye open.
"No," Naobito said flatly.
"Oh."
For a long moment, Naobito just stared at him, expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've never acted like this before. What's going on with you, boy?"
Naoya tilted his head. "Maybe I hit my head?"
This time, the clan head facepalmed, not knowing how to respond to his son's words.
The training continued, and by the time it ended, Naoya's arms felt like noodles. He collapsed onto the grass, breathing heavily.
A servant hurried over with a towel and a cup of water. "Naoya-sama, are you alright?"
"Define 'alright,'" Naoya muttered, staring up at the sky. "Do people normally train before breakfast every day?"
"Yes, Naoya-sama," the servant said hesitantly.
"…Oh." He sipped his water, thinking. "Then everyone here is insane."
The servant froze again, unsure whether to agree.
Naobito's shadow fell over him. "You complain too much."
Naoya looked up sheepishly. "I think I'm allergic to expectations."
Naobito's lips twitched — just slightly, the closest thing to amusement he ever showed. "Then you were born into the wrong family."
Naoya smiled faintly, though he didn't know why. "Yeah… seems like it."
Naobito frowned at his words. "You are weak," he stated bluntly. "Weakness is unacceptable."
Naoya looked up at him, confusion flickering in his eyes. "I don't know how to do this. I can't feel any of it."
Naobito's expression softened ever so slightly. "Then you must learn. The Zenin clan does not tolerate failure."
Later, as the sun climbed higher, Naoya wandered back toward the pond from the previous day. His body ached, his hands and legs slightly bruised from the stick's smacks, but his mind was strangely quiet.
He knelt by the water again, watching the koi drift lazily beneath the surface.
The reflection that looked back at him was still unfamiliar — sharp eyes, fine features — but the faint dirt smudges on his cheeks and the awkward smile made it feel a little more real.
But soon, that awkward smile vanished as he remembered his father's words. The Zenin clan does not tolerate failure.
What did that mean for him? He thought about it for a while before coming to a grim conclusion.
A clan so brutal that they bruise and bleed during training would definitely be far crueler to me if I turned out to be a failure, Naoya thought.
He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling within him. He didn't understand why he couldn't access the cursed energy that everyone else seemed to wield effortlessly.
But that didn't stop him. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't give up — not until he mastered cursed energy.
Growl!!
Suddenly, his stomach roared from hunger.
Maybe he'd start after breakfast.
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After breakfast, the day continued for Naoya much like his morning — meaning more training.
By midday, he had started to seriously suspect that cursed energy was just a hoax made up by a bunch of mentally ill people who enjoyed torturing children.
That night, long after dinner, the household had grown quiet. Moonlight spilled gently through the paper doors, casting pale shadows across Naoya's room.
He sat cross-legged on his futon, hands resting on his knees. His arms still throbbed from the endless training, but he decided to give it one final push before going to bed.
"Alright… let's try this again," he whispered to himself.
He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. He remembered Naobito's words: The cursed energy within you is born of negative emotion.
So he tried to feel it — the frustration of failure, the irritation toward the people who'd been drilling him since morning, the dull ache of his bruises. Slowly, those feelings gathered in his chest, heavy and raw.
Something flickered inside him — faint, but real. A warmth that wasn't warmth, a pulse that wasn't a heartbeat.
Naoya's breath hitched. "There you are…" he murmured.
The air around him seemed to stir. His hands trembled as a faint shimmer — like ripples in hot air — danced briefly around his palms. It lasted only a moment before vanishing, but his eyes widened in awe.
He had done it. Even if it was weak, even if it barely showed — it was his.
Naoya exhaled deeply, collapsing back on the futon with a tired grin. "Finally…" he whispered to himself.
Ding~ Ding~ Ding~ Ding~ Ding~
[Cursed Energy Unlocked]
Naoya's eyes snapped open, confusion flashing across his face. "...Have I finally gone mad?" he muttered.
But before he could think further, a glowing screen suddenly appeared in front of him — floating in midair.
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Close [X]
Name: Naoya ZeninTitle: Body Stealer, Possible Zenin HeirCursed Technique: LockedCursed Energy: 449 / 450
STR: 10DEX: 7VIT: 30INT: 15LUK: 10
Extra Points: 0
Achievements: —
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Naoya stared blankly at the strange screen for several seconds, his face completely unreadable.
Finally, he gave a slow nod, clicked the "Close" button, and muttered, "Yeah, definitely losing it."
Then he rolled over and went to sleep.