Path to Strength

The first rays of dawn hadn't yet crested the horizon when Emiko stood in the courtyard of the deserted dojo behind The Hollow Lantern. It was only the wooden boards cracking under her feet as she turned from side to side, looking around. The dojo was ancient, battered by time, but somehow still bore a sense of discipline — like countless battles had been waged here before.

Saya was standing across from her, arms crossed, golden eyes analyzing each and every movement. Kaito had his back to one of the wooden pillars, and his usual smirk was gone. He was observing closely, judging silently.

"OK," Saya said, cracking her knuckles. Re: "Let's see what you're made of."

Emiko swallowed, tightening her grip on the wooden practice sword Saya had given her. She had never fought with a weapon, but after the past few events, she knew she would have to learn.

"Hit me," Saya said, standing utterly still.

Emiko hesitated. "You're not going to move?"

Saya smirked. "That's up to you."

Without thinking, Emiko pushed forward as she swung the wooden sword in the air. She swung down with all the strength she—

—only to sense the air change and realize Saya was gone.

Emiko did not have time to process what had happened before a blunt object hit the back of her leg and she fell onto the ground, losing her grip of the sword.

"Dead," Saya replied flatly, standing behind her.

Emiko groaned. "That fast?"

Kaito laughed from the sidelines. "You didn't even see her move, eh?"

Emiko glared at him. "Helpful."

Saya stepped back. "Again."

Emiko clenched her teeth and got up. This time, she was going to be smart. Rather than charging in head-on, she feinted left then abruptly changed directions to swing upward toward Saya's side.

But Saya dodged easily, stepping aside just as Emiko's attack sliced through nothing but air. In a single swift motion, Saya rapped Emiko's wrist with two fingers, paralyzing her grip. The wooden sword slipped from her fingers once more.

A second hard jab to her shoulder, and Emiko staggered back.

"Dead again," Saya said, shaking her head.

Emiko groaned. "You could at least act like it's a struggle."

Saya chuckled. "If I don't give, you don't learn. Again."

This process would repeat countless times. Emiko had tried everything—from hitting from different angles to launching sudden offensive maneuvers to acting erratically—but Saya deflected everything she threw at her with effortless ease.

An hour passed.

Then two.

Emiko was soaked in sweat, breathing heavily from where she sat on the ground, holding onto the sword. Her entire body felt sore as if she had run a marathon.

Saya squatted in front of her. "Frustrated?"

"You think?" Emiko muttered.

Saya's golden eyes softened a little. "Good. Use it. But do not let it control you."

Emiko swiped at beads of sweat forming on her forehead. "How do I fight an opponent that I cannot even see move?"

Saya sat back and tapped her chin. "Tell me what you knew to trust?"

Emiko frowned. "My eyes?"

Saya nodded. "And that is your first mistake. You're watching, but you're not feeling."

Emiko blinked. "What's the difference?"

Kaito chimed in from the side. "Your eyes can only catch so much for you, particularly against someone who's faster than you. But if you have a sense of intent — if you can feel the shift in energy, read your opponent's moves — you will respond more quickly than sight alone permits."

Saya held up a hand. "Close your eyes."

Emiko hesitated but obeyed.

"All right, listen," saya said. "Forget about sight. Listen. Feel. Where am I?"

Emiko frowned. The faint sound of the distant city reached her ears through the dojo, wind whispering against walls. But Saya's presence? She felt as if she had evaporated.

Seconds passed.

Then—

A slight shift in the air. A disturbance.

Her mind wasn't fast enough to catch up with what Emiko's body did. The wooden sword spun as she turned sharply —

Saya caught it mid-strike with her bare hand, grinning. "Better."

Emiko's eyes snapped open. "Did I—?"

"You felt me," Saya said again. "Barely. But it's a start."

Emiko's heart pounded. "That was… different."

Saya released the sword. "It's going to take a while, but if you train that instinct, you'll start fighting without using only your eyes.

Kaito smirked. "And then at least don't get knocked down in five seconds."

Emiko shot him a glare.

Saya clapped her hands. "Okay, we have a long way to go, but that was enough for today. Get some rest. We'll push harder tomorrow."

Exhaustion washed over Emiko and settled deep in her bones. She had only laughed at the surface, but for the first time, she had a real path forward.

She was no longer merely running.

She was learning to fight.

Later that night, as the city's lights blinked outside the window, Kaito was on the rooftop of The Hollow Lantern, looking out at the skyline. The weight of everything that had happened bore down on him.

Tsubaki's arrival. The Council's growing threat. Emiko's rapid progress.

He knew they were on a clock.

"You're overthinking it," Saya's voice broke through the quiet.

Kaito didn't look as she came closer. "You saw it too, didn't you?"

Saya stood leaning against the rail beside him. "The attack on Tsubaki was a message. They're testing you. Waiting to see if you keep running … or finally snap."

Kaito clenched his fists. "They're making a mistake if they think I'm going to lie down and take my fate."

Saya smirked. "Good. I'd be very disappointed if you had."

Kaito exhaled slowly. "And Emiko?"

Saya made a serious face. "She has potential. A lot of it. But she's still weak. If you want her to survive what's coming, you'll have to push her harder."

Kaito was quiet for a moment. "I know."

Saya studied him. "You care about her."

Kaito frowned. "I want to keep her alive."

Saya chuckled. "Right. Keep telling yourself that."

Kaito glared at her, but Saya only smirked and turned back to face the passengers.

"Get some sleep," she tossed back. "Tomorrow's going to be even harder."

When the door closed behind her, Kaito didn't move but still stared at the city.

The Council was coming. The war had already begun.

And he would be ready.

No matter what it took.