The first morning back at the 13th Royal Unit base was quiet.
Hiro woke before dawn, his body still adjusting to the soft mattress after two weeks on a military cot. The ceiling was familiar ,wooden panels, clean lines, the faint scent of incense drifting through the vents.
He pushed himself up, rolling his shoulders. The bruises from the Gate fight had faded to pale yellow. His muscles still ached, but it was the ache of healing, not injury.
Time to train.
He dressed and slipped out of his room.
---
The training grounds were empty.
The sun hadn't risen yet. The sky was pale blue, streaked with orange on the horizon. Hiro stood in the center of the courtyard, closed his eyes, and reached for his Aether.
His transformation came easier now—smoother, faster. One moment he was human. The next, he stood on four legs, white fur gleaming in the dim light, nine tails fanned behind him.
He didn't require Yurei's kiss anymore to transform just her presence as long as she was nearby,he could transform but transformations without the kiss were slightly weaker.
He started with the basics.
Severing Claw. Slash. Pivot. Slash again. Each strike was sharper than before, more precise. His claws tore through the training dummies like paper.
Then he moved to his tails.
One tail at a time, he practiced what he'd learned at the Doghouse.
He paused, panting.
The Nine bladed tail execution nearly killed me, he thought. But I did it. I held all nine at once.
He hadn't been able to sustain it—the Aether drain was too intense but he'd done it. That was progress.
He continued, cycling through each tail.
Getting better.
"Show-off."
Hiro's ears perked. Daisy stood at the edge of the training ground, arms crossed, her short blonde hair still messy from sleep.
"Didn't expect anyone else to be up," Hiro said.
"I couldn't sleep." She walked toward him, her bare feet silent on the grass. "Your strikes need work."
"My strikes?"
"The control is sloppy. You're wasting Aether." She cracked her knuckles. "Here. Watch."
Lightning crackled around her fingers controlled, precise. She flicked her wrist, and a bolt struck a training dummy, splitting it cleanly down the middle.
"See? Economy of motion. You're throwing an attack like you're trying to burn down a forest. Sometimes a candle is enough."
Hiro's tails flicked. "You're offering to train me?"
"Don't get excited." Daisy's cheeks flushed. "I just hate watching you waste potential."
"Right."
"Shut up."
For the next hour, she drilled him on fire control to fix his strikes and his fox flare—small bursts, targeted flames, heat without destruction. By the end, Hiro could light a single leaf on fire without scorching the ones beside it.
"Not bad," Daisy admitted. "For an idiot."
"High praise."
---
An hour later, the sun had risen, and the rest of the unit had gathered for breakfast.
Elira sat in the corner, nursing a cup of tea, her visible eye half-closed. Bailey reviewed reports at the table, her rainbow eyes scanning documents. Marian was nowhere to be seen.
Yurei entered last, her pink hair still damp from a bath. She sat beside Hiro without a word.
"You're up early," she said.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Training?"
He nodded. "Daisy helped with my fire."
Yurei glanced at Daisy, who was aggressively not looking at them. "Did she now."
"She said I was wasting Aether."
"She's not wrong." Yurei's lips curved. "Her methods are abrasive, but her advice is sound."
"I heard that!" Daisy called from across the room.
"You were meant to."
Elira snorted into her tea.
---
Marian appeared halfway through breakfast, her hair wet, her expression guarded. She sat at the far end of the table, away from Hiro.
Daisy raised an eyebrow. "You're quiet."
"Tired."
"You've been tired for two weeks."
Marian didn't answer.
Bailey looked up from her reports. "The next base is that Creepy Goth Base. Elira, you'll be accompanying Yurei and Hiro."
Elira nodded. "I know."
"The unit specializes in unconventional blessings. Possession. Toy manipulation. Sorrow-based attacks." Bailey's voice was clinical. "Their leader, Morticia Blackwood, has low confidence despite high combat potential. Captain, you'll need to—"
"I know what to do," Yurei interrupted. "I've read the reports."
"Then you know it won't be easy."
"Nothing ever is."
---
After breakfast, Hiro found Marian in the garden.
She was sitting on a stone bench, staring at the koi pond, her pink eyes distant. She didn't look up when he approached.
Her hands were resting on her knees—too still. Too rigid. Like she was holding herself together by force.
"You're avoiding me," he said.
"I'm avoiding everyone."
"Same thing."
She sighed. "What do you want, Hiro?"
He sat beside her. Close enough to talk. Far enough to give her space.
"I wanted to thank you. For at the Gate. For carrying me out. For—"
"I know." She cut him off. "You don't have to thank me."
"I want to."
She finally looked at him. Her eyes were tired—not from lack of sleep, but from something else. Something she wasn't saying.
"At the Doghouse," she said slowly, "you reminded me of someone."
"Who?"
"Myself. Before I gave up." Her voice was quiet. "I used to be like you. Reckless. Stubborn. Believing I could save everyone."
"What changed?"
"Reality." She looked away. "I failed. My family disowned me. Yurei saved me. And I stopped trying to be a hero."
Hiro was silent for a moment. "Is that why you stayed back? During the fight?"
"I was observing."
Marian's jaw tightened. "Maybe."
"I don't think you're a coward, Marian."
She laughed—a bitter, broken sound. "You don't know me."
Her hands trembled. Just slightly. Hiro noticed.
"I know you saved my life. Twice." He met her eyes. "I know you didn't have to. I know you care, even if you pretend you don't."
Her breath caught.
"You're an idiot," she whispered.
"So I've been told."
They sat in silence, watching the koi. The water rippled. The fish drifted.
Marian's hand rested on the bench between them. Close enough to touch.
Neither of them moved.
Then slowly her pinky finger brushed against his.
Hiro didn't pull away.
Neither did she.