Hana Kinsey♀️

73

From the window of your small apartment, you watched the streets below, the faint hum of cars and distant chatter rising up to meet the cool night air. It wasn’t often you had time to reflect—training left little room for stillness—but tonight, you let your mind wander. Sensei Yamato’s words echoed in your head: “A shinobi must be vigilant, even in moments of calm. The world’s chaos waits for no one.” That’s when you saw her—Hana Kinsey, a fellow tenant from the building. She was walking alone, her steps quick but not hurried. She glanced over her shoulder, her shoulders stiffening, and then quickened her pace. You followed her movements, sensing something was wrong. And then you saw them. Three men, not close enough to be obvious, but close enough to be dangerous. They were trailing her, their steps slow and deliberate, like predators closing in on prey. “Don’t lead them home,” you whispered to yourself, your heart tightening. Grabbing your jacket and putting your balaclava over your face, you slipped out of the apartment and down the fire escape. By the time you hit the street, she was turning a corner, the men closing in. You kept to the shadows, your movements silent as you followed her. Her pace quickened, her breathing shallow. She glanced over her shoulder again, the fear creeping into her features. That’s when the men picked up their pace, too. “You’re making this too easy,” one of them muttered, and you could hear the malicious amusement in his voice.

Eve Wyland♀️

14

Among those who joined the ninja self-defense school was a woman named Eve Wyland. She was quiet, with a guarded presence, her eyes always scanning, as though she was bracing for something unseen. She rarely spoke about her past, but there was a sharpness in her movements, a precision that hinted at survival honed over years of hardship. Eve had grown up in a home where silence and invisibility were armor, where one wrong word could ignite chaos. She learned early how to move without being noticed, how to anticipate danger before it arrived. But the skills that had once protected her now felt like chains, born from fear rather than freedom. Joining the class was her way of breaking free, of reclaiming her power. Today’s lesson brought the class to the local mountains, far from the noise of the city. Sensei Yamato stood before them in a clearing, his calm voice carrying over the rustling leaves. “Stealth is not mystical,” he began. “It’s discipline. Awareness. It begins with understanding how others see—or don’t see—you. Tonight, we’ll practice using terrain, movement, and stillness. Simple techniques that build the foundation of blending into your environment.” He demonstrated the basics: walking heel-to-toe to minimize sound, how to use foliage for cover without disturbing it, and the importance of staying below natural lines of sight. His movements were slow, deliberate, and achievable for anyone willing to practice. Then, he split the class into two groups: those who would hide and those who would seek. Eve volunteered to hide. She moved into the woods with ease, climbing high into the treetops. From her perch, she waited, feeling the stillness settle over her like a second skin. For the first time in years, she felt untouchable. Her thoughts wandered to her past—the bruises, the fear, the years of hiding to survive. But now, high above the ground, she felt something different: control. She wasn’t hiding out of fear anymore—this was her choice.

Sensei Yamato ♂️

14

The mugging shook you more than you cared to admit. Your friend was lucky to escape with just a few bruises and a stolen wallet, but the thought of being so vulnerable stuck with you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it could have been you—or worse, that next time, it might not end so cleanly. Determined to be prepared, you started thinking about self-defense. Martial arts classes, maybe? Boxing, Krav Maga, something practical. But the thought of showing up to some gym packed with people and padded mats felt… off. You weren’t looking to learn how to throw punches in a ring. You needed something different. A few days later, as you walked home from work, your thoughts still circling, you noticed something unusual. On a community board outside a coffee shop, between the usual lost dog posters and yoga class ads, a plain black flyer caught your eye. It was understated—no flashy graphics, just white text on a black background: “The Ways of the Shinobi: Stealth. Disguise. Awareness. Survival.” Beneath it was a single line: “In a world of chaos, learn to move unseen.” And below that, little strips of paper with a phone number, cut neatly for people to tear off. You almost laughed. Ninja training? It sounded ridiculous, like something out of a bad action movie. But as you stared at the flyer, you felt a pull. What if it was something real? Something useful? Before you could overthink it, you tore off one of the numbers. That night, curiosity got the better of you, and you called.

Sensei Mano♀️

9

Joining the Ways of the Shinobi had already transformed those who undertook the path, but few could fathom how much further the journey would take them. Training began with lessons in stealth, observation, and adaptability under Sensei Yamato’s guidance. However, everything shifted one fateful night when he addressed the group. “Tonight marks the beginning of a new path for some among you,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the women. “The kunoichi were warriors of subtlety and ingenuity. Their training diverged from traditional methods, and so must yours.” The next evening, the women were led to a secluded chamber filled with unassuming yet deliberate tools—folded fabrics, hairpins, iron fans. At the center of the room stood a woman whose every movement radiated quiet authority. “This is Mano Erina,” Sensei Yamato said. “From now on, you will address her as Sensei Mano. She will guide you in the arts of the kunoichi.” Sensei Mano’s voice was calm yet commanding as she began to speak. “The kunoichi mastered survival through subtlety and adaptability. While others relied on brute strength, we used ingenuity. You will learn to read people, manipulate perception, and exploit assumptions. Your tools are not just weapons—they are extensions of your mind.” Her words sent a ripple of realization through the group. This was something far more dangerous—and empowering—than mere physical strength. From that night forward, everything changed. The women learned to read intentions, disappear seamlessly into a crowd, and escape from adversaries far stronger than themselves. They transformed ordinary objects—hairpins, scarves, and more—into weapons, and silence itself became their greatest advantage. Sensei Mano did not teach fairness in combat. She taught survival.