“How did you sleep?” asked Bao as Obake arrived in the kitchen the following morning.
   “Great. What about you? Still drunk?” he replied, a comedic edge in his voice.
   “No, of course not. Although I wish I were. My back is killing me.”
   Obake stepped behind her and began a delicate back massage.
   “You’re such a sweetheart,” she said, patting his hand.
   “Where’s Papa at?”
   “He had to run out. He’ll be back any minute.”
   Upon discovering his breakfast, Obake tore into the buttery pancakes, scrambled eggs, and congee.
   “Good. Because I need to talk to you guys,” he said with his mouth full.
   “Is everything okay, Froggy?”
   The front door creaked open, and in came Yokai with a fistful of fresh herbs. “Fantastic.” He smirked at his grandson. “I don’t have to wake Sir Lazy Bum.”
   “I’m surprised you’re not hungover, old man,” teased Obake.
   “Hangovers are for the weak. Besides, I can’t be hungover on a special day like today, Green.”
   Like a curious cat, Obake tilted his head.
   “Ceremony time!” exclaimed Yokai.
   “What? Today? Right now? Doesn’t that take a while?”
   “Don’t worry. We have plenty of time.” Yokai glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s only 6:07 a.m.,” he said, heading to the sink to give the black herbs a quick rinse.
   Maybe I should bring it up later.
   Obake regarded three framed photos on the mantel above the fireplace. One depicted Yokai and Bao smiling from a boat in the ocean. Another showed Obake, Bao, and Yokai playing cards together on the porch. All great memories, but it was the last photo he admired most. It depicted dozens of warriors standing side by side, each wearing a ghost-like green mask. The terrifying ghost from Bao’s puapo canister mirrored the masks exactly.
   “Well, I was hoping to talk to you guys about something,” said Obake.
   Yokai shook his head. “I’m sure whatever it is can wait.”
   Bao interrupted with concern. “Surely we could—”
   “Absolutely not,” said Yokai. “This is far too important.”
   “This is important, too,” retorted Obake.
   “Patience. You’ll get your chance.” Yokai approached the front door. “Now get dressed.”
   Grumbling under his breath, Obake went to his room, wrestled into his keikogi, and met his grandparents in the front yard. 
   “As we speak…” Yokai pointed to the mountain’s summit. “Rare flowers are growing at Cliffs Edge.”
   “I know,” said Obake, his irritation obvious. “They’re used to make Puapo Elixir. What about them?”
   “Your task will be to retrieve one of those flowers,” said Yokai, holding up an index finger.
   “One? That’s so easy.”
   “While Bao and I do our best to stop you.”
   A lump found its way between Obake’s vocal cords, and he gulped it down.
   “We will show you no mercy,” said Bao, her tone deadly serious. “You will be treated as an enemy. So, don’t go easy on us. We will not offer you the same courtesy. Now that your wounds are healed, I expect a stellar performance.”
   Obake stared at his grandmother, her demeanor now tundra-cold.
   “The last thing I want to do is bury my only grandson,” she continued. “Don’t let us down.”
   After taking the naginata from where it rested against the cottage wall, Yokai handed it to his grandson. 
   Mizuchi’s steel filled Obake with a fierce, steady confidence. “Are we using—”
   “Yes. Soul energy will be required if you want to survive this. I know you’ve had a hard time using it under pressure, but your enemies will not care about your stage fright,” said Yokai.
   Whenever his grandfather turned from witty old man to fierce warrior, Obake felt a stab of dislike mixed with respect.
   “I don’t know why I have trouble with it. I just… choke.”
   “You’ll get better,” assured Yokai. “It’s like I always say: soul energy is like a muscle.”
   “Or like breathing,” added Bao.
   “Even better,” said Yokai as he continued. “You’re born with muscles and you’re born inherently knowing how to breathe, right?”
   Obake nodded.
   “However, you have to work out in order to build those muscles. You have to train if you want to hold your breath longer underwater. All it takes is a little practice.”
   “I understand, but I’m just no good at it.”
   Bao spoke with an air of intensity. “Have some faith. This test should help you. If it doesn’t, then I worry nothing will.”
   He had never seen his grandparents this grave—not when he broke valuable decorations by accident, not when he earned poor grades at the academy, not even when he failed to make curfew. Suddenly, they were behaving like people preparing for war. 
   “This should go without saying, but never attempt to harness soul energy without a conduit,” warned Yokai. “A well-forged weapon, a well-crafted piece of jewelry, a sturdy set of armor. Anything like that will do.”
   Growing impatient, Obake clenched his jaw.
   “Yes. We can’t emphasize that enough. Soul energy is extremely demanding on the body. Conduits drastically reduce the toll it takes,” said Bao.
   “The better the conduit, the better the results,” said Obake, cutting in to speed up the conversation. “I know all of this already.”
   Yokai grimaced. “We’re just making sure. Plenty of warriors have taken this lesson lightly and paid the ultimate price.”
   Obake ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll be careful.”
   “I knew a kid growing up that used a metal spinning top.” Bao cocked her head in amusement. “Crazy girl.”
   With a burst of speed, Yokai was off, moving faster than Obake had seen anyone move in his seventeen years of existence.
   “Good luck,” said Bao.
   Her waddle turned into a nimble dash as she followed in her husband’s wake. They both entered the Tree Corridor and disappeared without a trace.
   Where did that come from? They’re not playing around this time. Mizuchi slipped in his sweaty grasp. This is it. Now or never.
   As if the wind itself were driving him like a sailboat, Obake bolted after them. He still couldn’t see them—couldn’t even sense their presence—as he tore across the land. The Tree Corridor rushed up to meet him and… nothing. He stepped inside expecting to catch them perched among the treetops, but the place was empty. 
   Fatigue from the long sprint burned through his legs. I should’ve paced myself. He scanned both sides of the corridor, peering into the forest—still no elder ninjas in sight. Where are they?
   A slimy, purple blob, like something dredged from a bog, rolled onto his path. Before he could evade the strange object, it exploded. The vibration sent him rolling through the dirt as a cloud of dust inundated him. Seeing beyond a three-foot radius became impossible. His ears rang so loud he couldn’t rely on them either.
   Shrill screeches cut through the ringing just moments before sonic waves slammed Obake into a tree. As he crawled into a crouch, another bog bomb landed in front of him. It seared his palm as he hurled it away. The blast detonated overhead, driving his face into the dirt.
   As the dust cleared, Obake saw him. Yokai was hiding among the trees after all, behind a camouflaged cloth that he tossed away before dropping down. A three-fanged, claw-like weapon was strapped to each of his arms. They glinted against sun rays peeking through the leaves. Like an owl descending on a mouse, he stabbed at Obake. The young ninja barreled away just in time. 
   Rising to his feet, he swung his naginata and winced when it came mere inches from Yokai’s throat. “No!”
   He imagined blood spraying out, but Yokai blocked the attack with ease. 
   In that case!
   Mizuchi struck again and again, each blow stronger and faster than the last. 
   Yokai deflected them. All the while, his expression soured with disappointment. “Not good enough!”
   While the clang of metal resounded, Bao leapt from underground, a kodachi firm in her grasp. She too had been hiding by way of a camouflaged cloth. After a long inhale, she unleashed a potent shriek. With the ringing gone, Obake heard every piercing octave. The volume was almost loud enough to shred his eardrums. More sonic waves spiraled toward him. Flipping over them, Yokai let the waves crash into his grandson. Obake’s feet carved trenches in the dirt as he skidded backwards. In that moment, he finally allowed himself to view his grandparents as enemies.
   I won’t let them beat me.
   Yokai and Bao stood side by side. Bao drew in another deep breath while Yokai lifted his arms overhead. A bog bomb—twice the size of the last two—swelled between his open palms. When her lungs reached their limit, Bao unleashed another sonic wave. Obake sprinted straight at it and went airborne, letting it spiral beneath his feet. Yokai reared back, then hurled his massive purple bomb. Releasing Mizuchi’s chain, Obake spun his entire body like a typhoon. Mizuchi’s blade slashed the bomb, repelling it back from where it came. It detonated between the elder ninjas, blasting them apart. With a thud, each of them slammed into a turtle statue.
   After retracting Mizuchi’s blade, Obake ejected it once more. The chain coiled around a distant tree branch, and he pulled himself to it with another retraction. Over and over, he repeated the action until the Tree Corridor lay in his wake.
   Instead of hooking a right and descending into the valley, he hooked a left, ascending toward the summit. Cliffs Edge awaited him in the distance. His heart filled with hope. He was eager to hear his grandparents’ praises, eager to tell Yumo about his triumph. 
   While he grabbed hold of the first rocky ridge, another sonic scream struck. The ridge crumbled to powder in his hand, forcing him to hit the dirt. Another bog bomb blasted him back, and he flopped around like a fish in a net.
   Bao and Yokai gained on him, deploying more bog bombs and sonic screams. Pushing through the onslaught, the young ninja shoulder-rammed Bao. As she tumbled aside, two more bombs emerged. Obake sidestepped the first and repelled the second, sending it off to explode against Yokai.
   Continuing his ascent to the summit, Obake felt prideful until he heard another sonic scream. He turned to brace for it when the daylight dimmed. Overhead, a silhouette passed beneath the sun. His grandmother was flying! Her sonic scream allowed her to maintain a steady altitude. Yokai peered from atop her back. Dozens of explosive bog pellets fell from his hands. It was impossible to dodge them all. Clenching his eyes, Obake dug deep within himself, summoning strength from his very essence. As the pellets rained and explosions erupted all around him, he vanished in a cloud of shadow. Shock overcame Bao and Yokai as their grandson re-appeared above them.
   Obake gave Yokai a double kick to the back. “Was that good enough for you?”
   The elder ninjas crash-landed while Obake touched down softer than a feather. For a split second, he considered checking on them, but instead he teleported straight to the summit.
   The radiant ocean met Obake’s eyes the moment he burst from his Shadow Cloud. There it is. The Hoitunji Ocean. Never fails to impress.
   To his left, a short distance away, stood the Yokai Ruins. Slightly to his right, a thin strip of rock extended out over the blue water. A bed of magenta flowers swayed near the far edge. Behind them stood a slab of stone with an inscription at the top: Those who have fallen in this life will rise in the next. Hundreds of names were listed below that, two of which made Obake forget why he was even there. Vai, Bakemono. He read the names again and again until he heard footsteps approaching from behind. In that instant, he ran to the flowers, pried one from its roots, and held it high.
   “Yes!” he screamed.
   Bao and Yokai came over the ridge, smiles of glee on their faces.
         
                                                                ♦♦♦
 
   In his front yard, Obake sat cross-legged in a circle with his grandparents. They kept their eyes shut while black herbs burned in a bowl resting at the heart of the gathering. A sweet fragrance encapsulated every one of his senses, relaxing him beyond anything he thought possible. His worries drifted to the far reaches of his mind—his parents, Meilana, the samurai, the undead bear, the bullies, all of it. They slipped so far away they were almost nonexistent.
   “A Yokai Ninja’s duty is to protect their home, their clan, and their family. A Yokai Ninja takes no joy in the killing of others, but they must sometimes do what is necessary to maintain peace.”
   Yokai’s words swam through his mind.
   “Emotion is not your enemy. A Yokai Ninja is fueled by it. Emotions are powerful tools when controlled—unstoppable when used wisely. A Yokai Ninja controlled by emotion is doomed to fail.”
   Bao’s words were equally striking.
   “A Yokai Ninja who values these principles can overcome any and every obstacle.” Yokai and Bao spoke in unison. “Do you swear to uphold the values and traditions of the Yokai Clan?”
   “I do,” said Obake with pride.
   The elders continued in unison. “Do you swear to strike down those who threaten peace whenever and wherever they reveal themselves?”
   “I do.”
   “Do you swear to always protect your family and clan?”
   “I do.”
   “Then you are hereby bestowed the mantle of Yokai Ninja. For now, your training is complete. You may rise.”
   Obake sat down a boy, but stood up a man. He felt empowered—ready to accomplish feats once deemed impossible, prepared to take on the realm.
   “This is... I’ve wanted this since I was a little kid. I don’t even know what to say right now.”
   “You don’t have to say a word,” said Bao, her eyes gleaming with admiration. “Just know that you deserve this.”
   “You did it, Green. To be honest, you had me worried there for a minute, but you surprised the shit out of me,” said Yokai.
   Obake soaked in the praise like sand drinking in the surf.
   “The one critique I have is your lack of stealth. Always keep that in mind.” Yokai tapped the side of his head. “Deception is a precious asset.”
   “You’re right. I guess I get overly excited and forget about it.”  
   Quiet chuckles drifted from Bao and Yokai.
   “Now remember, as of now, you’re a Genin. But you’ll have plenty of time to climb up the ranks,” said Bao.
   Obake smiled. “Well in that case, what’re we waiting for?
   “No way. Slow it down.” Yokai gave a weary laugh. “I’m going to need a nice long break after that. My muscles aren’t what they used to be.” 
   “After what I saw, I don’t blame you. I never knew you two could fight like that,” said Obake proudly.
   Like two youngsters caught off guard by praise, Yokai and Bao blushed. 
   “We needed you to see how dangerous an actual battle could be,” said Bao.
   Yokai grabbed his grandson’s shoulder. “There’s no way to tell who’s a Soul Wielder at first glance. It’ll serve you well to always be prepared. You also never know when we might face our next threat.”
   “About that…” Obake cleared his throat. “I was in the Yokai Ruins yesterday.”
   “You what?” asked Yokai, adopting a defensive disposition.
   With an undertone of anger, Bao piled on. “You know that’s forbidden.” 
   “Yeah, but how else am I going to get answers?”
   “Answers?” Yokai’s defenses mounted. “Answers to what?” 
   “You know, like… what really happened to my parents.”
   The elder ninjas fell dumbstruck, unable to look at their grandson.
   “Please. I’m begging you,” pleaded Obake. “I need this.”
   “I won’t,” said Yokai.
   “Why won’t you tell me? Huh? I deserve to know. You don’t even let me see pictures of them anymore. All I have is a pocket watch, the armor you keep in your room and vague descriptions to remember them by.”
   Attempting to close the gap, Bao stepped forward, but Obake took several dismissive steps back.
   Her eyes welled up. “Obake, please, we—” 
   “We what? We will tell you when you’re older? We will tell you if you graduate?”
   “Calm down,” grunted Yokai.
   “No! I’m sick of waiting. No more excuses. Tell me what happened to them.”
   Yokai took a deep breath. “You already know the ginyai—”
   “Always with the damn ginyai! What does that even mean? All you’ve ever said is that the supposed ‘ginyai’ killed them. That’s it. What’s the rest? I want to know everything!”
   Unable to make eye contact with his grandson, Yokai turned his back.
   “I searched for evidence of these ‘ginyai,’ too. Know what I found? Jack shit! Did you guys make it up?”
   Tears rolled down Bao’s cheeks. “That’s utterly ridiculous. We would never invent something like that. The Great Strife was real. It happened.” 
   “It was the most devastating ordeal we ever experienced. I wouldn’t wish what happened to our clan on my worst enemy.” Yokai spoke with despair in his voice. “I understand why you’re upset. I understand you feel left in the dark. But trust me, knowledge can be a heavy burden to bear—sometimes too heavy. You’re better off not knowing.”
   “That’s not for you to decide,” barked Obake.
   “It is as long as you’re under my roof.”
   “Then I won’t be under your roof!”
   Yokai spun around; he couldn’t mask his shock.
   “You know, you should consider taking a page from your dear old pal Kinichi’s book.”
   Bao peeked from behind her tear-drenched hands, glancing between her two family members.
   “That’s right. I know you had something to do with the samurai incident. Kinichi basically said so himself. He’s going to start teaching the whole class about it today. Looks like I’m not the only one who’s tired of all the lies.”
   “He wouldn’t,” muttered Yokai.
   “Want to bet?” Obake stormed away toward the Tree Corridor.
   “Come back, Obake!” screamed Yokai.
   With reluctance, Obake turned to meet his grandfather’s gaze.
   “I will tell you this. They fought valiantly and died with the greatest of honor. They were the best of us and will never be forgotten.”
   Obake’s eyes welled up, but his fury wouldn’t let the tears fall. Without another word, he shook his head in disappointment and departed.