Mikoto started to panic after checking Kazuo’s pulse. His skin was ice cold and his heart had stopped beating. The ever calm voice of reason Takumi on the other hand thought hard as to what course of action to take next. This time Mikoto was on par with him. First Aid! They’d both came to the same conclusion as Mikoto began to press against Kazuo’s chest with both hands in an effort to revive him.

“You’ll have to blow into his mouth,” she said finally midway through her resuscitation efforts.

“No, I think you should do it.” He proceeded to read from the scroll that was next to the katana. “You’re the one who took that medic course with Kohaku.”

“Argh…that’s so sexist Takumi!” she grunted. “We all learnt first aid in our first and sophomore years!”

“I’m simply stating a logical fact,” he tried to make an excuse.

“Which is?”

“You’re more suited at this than I am.”

She sighed heavily as she affirmed her preconception about him.

“If you ever speak of this to anyone…you’re dead,” she assured him before taking a deep breath and exhaling into Kazuo’s mouth.

Meanwhile Kazuo traversed a dark plane that was pitch black save for a small white light in the distance. It was cold and the silence too loud as he walked towards the brightness.

“Wait…” a deep voice beckoned to him and he felt a hand on his shoulder. “What is it that your desire?”

“To get revenge on the men who killed my mother,” he managed to let the words escape his mouth.

“Well then Inazuma Kazuo,” the voice answered. “You shall not find that which you seek there.”

“W-wait, who are you?” Kazuo turned his head and couldn’t see a thing in the pitch black darkness. “Where the hell am I? How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about you my dear boy,” the voice said. “If that which you seek is back in the world of the living then you shall not find it in that light. For to enter it is to surely die. Take my hand and I shall show you who you are.”

Kazuo having nothing more to lose took a leap of faith and raised his hand. Another hand held onto his and they were instantly teleported into a snow white three dimensional plane with no end. He could now see the figure of the man who had been speaking to him. He greatly resembled the statue from before in the Inazuma shrine. He had deep blue spiky hair and a long stubble beard to match. He also wore a black nagagi and hakama as well as a white haori and had a katana sheathed on his back.

“Orewa Inazuma Kazuro (I am Kazuro Inazuma),” his voice echoed the plane majestically. “Densetsu no Sennin desu (The Legendary Sage)!”

“G-great g-grandpa,” Kazuo trembled both shocked and amazed. “D-does that mean I’m d-dead?”

“Your soul exists in an equilibrium unknown to neither life nor death,” said Kazuro. “This place is known as the shadow plane. Allow me to your mind and show you who exactly you are.”

Kazuro gently placed his thumb on his grandson’s forehead, “you are a descendant of Akira, the first Inazuma and eldest son of the great usurper king Masashi Miyamoto. Akira begot Kazushiro, who then begot my grandsire Kazuhiro. I was the son of his daughter princess Kazue and Kagehiko of the Kageyama clan.”

The Sage’s memories rushed through and overwhelmed Kazuo’s mind as he listed the Inazuma bloodline. The young Inazuma fell to the ground as his feeble mind tried to process all that information.

“These memories may be a lot to take in as of yet however when you find yourself in great peril they shall be of assistance,” Kazuro told him. “But on to more important matters, time moves differently in here than out there. For every hour spent in the shadow plane is equivalent to a minute in the world of the living.”

Kazuo tried hard to follow with what his great grandfather had just said. “I see.”

“We should consider that your body out there is unconscious, which means–”

“If I spend too much time in here I will die out there.”

“Precisely. Now grandson there are shadows on the wall and they gather to serve an even greater darkness that I failed to conquer in my era. The katana, Raijin (Lightning God) that brought you here is one of four that I forged in my youth and only you my dear boy can truly wield them to the fullest and bring the darkness into light.”

“That means avenging my mother and everyone else.”

“Alas vengeance is a cycle that brings forth even more vengeance. The shadows want you to atone for my sins. I killed my father who was their Ōkage (shadow king), when he waged war against all the lands of Nihon in a bid to become a Shadow Emperor and rule over them as our predecessor once did. So I give you these weapons not to exact revenge but to protect yourself and your loved ones from the darkness that is soon to come.”

“How will I face them off, I don’t know that much jujutsu or kenjutsu?”

“When you touched Raijin the fragments of my ki within you were ignited. For you to conquer the shadows you shall need to journey to the Earth and Water countries to retrieve Dojin (Earth God) and Sūijin (Water God) respectively. Once you have obtained these swords you are to go to a kensei (sword saint) from Yamaguchi port named Nakamura Hanzo who shall train you to master them.”

“Can’t you train me great grandpa?”

“That is not possible as I am just the physical manifestation of my ki within your mind and the swords are out there in the world of the living. However Hanzo-kun is the most suited person for the task.”

Kazuo’s face showed distress.

“Worry not my dear grandson for there is something I can help you with from in here in order to prepare you for the battles to come.”

“What’s that?”

“To conquer your very own shadow…so take my hand.”

Kazuo held onto his hand and they were instantaneously teleported back to where they were before. His great grandfather explained to him that they were in his subconscious or shadow plane. As they navigated through the shadow plane they came across a dark silhouetted figure who was made visible by a light that Kazuro had conjured. The shadowy figure was an exact doppelganger of Kazuo save for being black all over and had no face.

“I’ve gotta fight that…thing,” said Kazuo facing his great grandfather.

Kazuro nodded. “Mind you we have been here for about twenty minutes which means about twenty seconds outside so time is of the essence.”

After acknowledging what he had been told Kazuo dashed towards his shadow. The battle of the self against the shadow had begun. He threw five rapid punches and zero landed on his opponent. He tried connecting a left uppercut followed by right leg kick which the shadow blocked using both hands. The shadow who’d been firmly holding onto Kazuo’s right leg then connected a reverse roundhouse to the latter’s left jaw. Kazuo was sent flying through the dark plane and landed on his butt before he rose up to fight again with even more determination. The unarmed combat resumed and it was like he was fighting a mirror version of himself. Each right or left fist or kick was countered by a left and right fist or kick respectively. It continued like that for a further thirty minutes.

“When you fight yourself try to be better than the self from yesterday, the self from a second ago,” said Kazuro. “Forget all that which you have learnt up until now and fight in a way that you have never fought before.”

The young Inazuma took heed of the older Inazuma’s advice and began fighting in a style different from what he had grown accustomed to. Instead of a left punch he would throw a right. Where he would normally block an attack he instead countered or ducked before connecting a reverse kick to his opponent’s Achilles’ heel. When the aforementioned instance occurred his shadow lost its balance and landed on its back.

“My boy!” Kazuro was impressed. “Here…catch!” he threw his katana towards his grandson.

When Kazuo grabbed hold of the katana a black katana also materialized in the hands of his shadow.

“Now it is to the death,” said Kazuro, “If you want to leave this place you will have to kill your shadow.”

The shadow charged forward with a katana and all that could be heard in the dark plane was steel hitting steel. It was the first time Kazuo wielded an actual katana. Before he had trained with Rohan using bokken (wooden swords). Now it was the real deal! He thought. When he got sidetracked for a split second his shadow grazed through his cheek leaving behind a cut. He held his wound and yeah it was real alright. Kazuo charged forward both hands tightly gripped on his weapon. When his shadow slashed its own katana to the right he slid in between its legs. The blade had missed his upper body by a hair. He appeared behind his shadow with the katana and sliced through its neck. The shadow’s head shot up into the void of black before it dropped to the ground and vanished into thin air.

“Well done my boy you have conquered your shadow,” Kazuro congratulated his grandson. “You have fortified your will for the battles to come. Remember that a fighter without ego in a battle is a fighter whose will can never be broken.”

“Thanks great grandpa,” sighed a fatigued Kazuo. “How do I get out this place?”

“There are three ways of entering this plane and those are through tōei, mindfulness meditation or a near death experience,” Kazuro explained. “The first two are quite difficult to fully master and only a select few individuals can actually enter this place using them. The last method however is the most dangerous of all, the lightning bolt that struck you could have killed you if it were not for my ki.”

Kazuo tried to follow but the explanation had entered through one ear and left through the other.

“In short, since you came here using the third method you will exit in a similar manner.”

“W–wait that means–”

“Yes,” Kazuro affirmed. “You will have to die here.”

Kazuro reclaimed his sword from his great grandson and faced it towards him.

“Chotto matte (wait a minute),” Kazuo raised his hands in front of his face. “What if I don’t return back?”

“We have been here for roughly four hours now which corresponds to four minutes out there,” Kazuro reminded him. “Time in this case is not on your side…observe.”

The Legendary Sage outstretched his hand into the dark void and an image of Mikoto diligently trying to resuscitate Kazuo showed.

“With each minute that your mind is deprived of air,” Kazuro added, “you run the risk of breaking it beyond repair.”

“Okay great grandpa,” Kazuo lowered his guard and let his arms fall to each side. “Let’s do this.”

Kazuo felt the blade as it dug its way into his heart. He felt as though his organ had been struck by a small bolt of lightning. There was a lub followed quickly by a dub. His heart was beating again.