Morning light crept softly through the thin paper blinds of Kenji Watanabe's room. The quiet chirping of birds outside barely stirred him. Kenji lay on his futon, staring at the ceiling, his mind heavy with the events of yesterday. The school corridors, the laughter, the endless taunts—they haunted him like ghosts.
He knew what he had to do.
Slowly, he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Today, he decided, he would try again. Not just the usual movements or shallow meditations. Today, he would attempt to awaken his Spirit Gate.
He clenched his fists and focused inward, willing his energy to awaken. But even as he inhaled deeply, concentrating, as though calling out to the unseen, the results were the same: silence. Nothing.
A faint stir—barely noticeable—rippled through his chest. A spark, fleeting and delicate, barely perceptible to his senses. He opened his eyes, letting out a slow breath.
Why is it so difficult?
The thought ran through him like a blade. All the students his age had begun to awaken. All the geniuses, the talented children, the ones from great families—they had already begun to taste the sweetness of power. And yet he, the son of the Watanabe family, had nothing.The Grandparents' Advice
Kenji swung his legs over the futon and stood, rubbing the stiffness from his limbs. He padded quietly into the kitchen, where his grandparents were already up. His grandfather, Hiroshi Watanabe, brewed tea over the small gas stove, his hands steady despite the faint tremor of age. His grandmother, Akiko Watanabe, was folding freshly laundered clothes, humming softly.
Kenji hesitated before speaking. "Grandfather… Grandmother… how do I… awaken it? My War Spirit. I try, but I can't feel it."
Hiroshi's face, lined with years of toil, softened. He motioned for Kenji to sit. "Kenji," he said slowly, "the path to strength is not always straightforward. You cannot force a War Spirit to awaken. It comes in its own time, when your body, your mind, and your soul are ready."
Kenji shook his head, frustration bubbling in his chest. "I've tried every technique I know. I meditate, I practice the movements, I control my breathing… but nothing. Everyone else… they already have theirs. Why not me?"
Akiko placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Patience, Kenji. Even the mightiest of warriors were once empty. It is in the struggle that your spirit is forged. You may not understand now, but this difficulty… it is shaping you, even if you cannot see it."
Kenji swallowed, biting back the surge of emotion. "But… how long? How long until I awaken? Am I just… useless?"
His grandfather's gaze hardened slightly, but there was a warmth beneath it. "Useless? Do you think I walked without pain when I was your age? Or that your grandmother lived without disappointment? The world does not wait for anyone. You endure, you persevere, and only then… only then, will it notice you."
Akiko added softly, "Kenji, strength is not only in power. It is in will, in determination, in the ability to continue even when the world mocks you. You already have more strength than most, even if you cannot see it."
Kenji nodded silently. Words offered comfort, but they did not awaken his War Spirit. They were a balm, not a key.School — Seeking Answers
By the time Kenji arrived at Hoshino Public School, the corridors were bustling with students. The teasing began almost immediately.
"Morning, Null," called Hiroshi Tanaka, his smirk sharp as a blade. "Still nothing? Maybe today's the day your Spirit Gate finally wakes… or maybe not. We'll see."
Kenji ignored him, walking to the classroom. The whispers followed him.
"I heard some Aoyama District kids opened their gates yesterday. A Cyan-rank Dragon! Can you imagine that?"
"And Watanabe still hasn't even felt a flicker. Pathetic."
The words cut, as always, but Kenji had learned to absorb them, to keep walking, to endure.
When the morning bell rang, he entered the classroom, sitting in his usual seat at the back. Today, however, he decided he would not simply wait for inspiration. Today, he would actively seek guidance.Asking the Teachers
During the first break, Kenji approached Ms. Haruka, the martial theory instructor. She was known for her knowledge of Spirit Gate openings and the mechanics of War Spirits.
"Ms. Haruka…" Kenji began hesitantly, "how… how do you awaken a Spirit Gate if it refuses to respond? I've tried, but nothing works."
Ms. Haruka looked at him for a long moment. There was no scorn in her eyes, only a trace of pity, though mild. "Kenji… I've seen students with slow awakenings before. Some never awaken until much later. It is rare, but not impossible. Some students must endure years before their War Spirits appear. The methods you use are correct, but perhaps your timing is not right. Some spirits wait for the proper connection."
Kenji pressed further. "Is there anything I can do? Any technique, any exercise, any help?"
She shook her head gently. "I can teach you techniques, but if your Spirit Gate does not respond… no external method will force it. You must find the trigger within yourself."
Kenji bowed. "Thank you, Ms. Haruka. I'll keep trying."
Her gaze followed him as he walked back to his seat. He could feel the weight of her doubt, though unspoken. Even the teachers… they could not help him.Consulting Classmates
At lunch, Kenji decided to seek advice from a few classmates who had already awakened their Red-rank War Spirits. He approached Kazuto, a diligent student whose Azure Tiger Spirit had recently manifested.
"Kazuto… how did you awaken your Spirit Gate?" Kenji asked, trying to hide the desperation in his voice.
Kazuto laughed softly, not unkindly. "Kenji… some people awaken easily because their bodies and souls are ready. Some struggle, even years. You've been training, haven't you? You must be practicing every day. But the Spirit Gate… it's more than training. It is readiness, compatibility, and… sometimes, luck."
Kenji nodded, but he felt no comfort in those words. Luck had abandoned him his entire life.
He tried another student, Riko Sakamoto, who had awakened a Green-rank Blade Spirit.
"Riko… how did you know your Spirit Gate was ready?"
Riko smiled faintly. "I didn't. It just… responded one day during meditation. I felt a surge, a connection. But I had practiced, endured, and disciplined myself for years. Perhaps your Spirit Gate will respond in the same way. Or perhaps… not yet."
Kenji sat silently, staring at his tray. All around him, students were eating, laughing, talking about their newly awakened powers. Dragon Spirits, Phoenix Spirits, Tiger Spirits—all already taking shape, already shaping their wielders into figures of respect.
And he… still had nothing.After School — The First Attempt in Private
After school, Kenji returned home, his feet dragging. He avoided his usual path, walking to the small clearing behind his house where he often practiced in solitude.
The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. Kenji stood in the center of the clearing, breathing deeply, closing his eyes.
"Today," he whispered to himself, "I will awaken it. I don't care how long it takes. I don't care how hard it is. I will awaken my War Spirit."
He adopted a meditative stance, arms outstretched, legs firm. He focused every ounce of willpower on the center of his chest, imagining a pulse, a spark, a presence waiting to emerge.
Minutes passed. Hours, perhaps. The sun began its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in crimson and gold. Sweat soaked his uniform, and his limbs trembled.
And still… nothing.
Kenji's head drooped. The crushing weight of failure pressed down. He had tried everything he knew. Every technique, every method, every ounce of mental and physical effort.
Yet the Spirit Gate remained silent.Desperation and Questions
Exhausted, Kenji collapsed onto the grass, staring at the darkening sky. He wanted to shout. To scream. To break something in frustration.
"Why won't it awaken?" he whispered. "Why me? Why is it so difficult? What am I missing?"
The answer came from neither heaven nor earth. Only silence. Only the whispering wind through the trees.
Even his grandparents could not grant him what he sought. Even his teachers could not guide him. Even his classmates, all of them, had moved forward while he remained behind.
It was a truth Kenji had known for years, but it had never felt so sharp, so unbearable.The Subtle Stirring
Just as he closed his eyes, ready to give up, a faint warmth spread from his chest. Not enough to awaken his Spirit Gate. Not enough to manifest a War Spirit.
But enough to be noticed.
It was subtle—a tiny ripple, like a droplet disturbing still water. The air around him shimmered faintly. His chest beat faster, not from exertion, but from the sense of something alive within him.
Kenji's eyes snapped open. "What… is that?"
He pressed his palms to his chest. A soft glow, like molten crimson and gold, pulsed faintly beneath his skin. No form yet. No consciousness. Just… life.
A Dragon? Perhaps. Something ancient, fierce, waiting.
Kenji gasped, awe and fear mingling in his chest.
He had felt it before—in the courtyard, fleeting and faint—but this time, it lingered longer. Not enough to awaken him. Not yet. But enough to give hope.Night — Reflection and Resolve
That evening, Kenji returned home, his body sore and mind racing. He ate quietly, his grandparents offering him warm, gentle smiles but saying nothing about the obvious turmoil in his heart.
He retired to his room, sitting cross-legged on the futon. The faint glow beneath his skin remained, pulsing softly like a heartbeat.
It's there, he thought. I can feel it. I am not empty.
And though the path was still shrouded in shadows, though the world continued to mock and scorn him, Kenji Watanabe made a vow:
"I will awaken. I will endure. I will become strong. No matter how long it takes, I will not fail."
For the first time, he closed his eyes not in despair, but with determination. The Dragon within him stirred. The first step toward the awakening had begun, invisible to the world, yet undeniable to him.
Even if he could not see it.
Even if no one else could.
Even if it would take years.
Kenji Watanabe's journey had truly begun.