Rebuild

The sky outside their motel window was dull gray, heavy with the kind of clouds that promised a storm but never delivered.

Kai sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, shirt off, ribs still bound in white gauze. His breath hitched every time he moved. The bruises had deepened to a sickly purple, the kind that didn't just hurt — they reminded him of how close he'd come to losing.

Zayn stood across from him, arms folded, tapping one bare foot against the floor.

"You're not ready," Kai muttered.

"Maybe not," Zayn replied, "but neither are they."

Silence hung between them for a moment.

Three days had passed since their battle with the fire-wielding Mamodo. Three days of limping down narrow alleyways, of searching for leads that turned to ash. Three days of painkillers and icy glares from motel staff.

And now, three days of training.

Zayn raised a hand, letting a tiny arc of lightning crackle between his fingertips.

"I've been thinking," he said. "Jikerdon wasn't strong enough to end it. It disoriented him, yeah, but he recovered too fast. We need more than brute power. We need timing."

Kai winced as he stood. "You're talking about coordination. Like… syncing our spell use with your attacks."

Zayn nodded. "And movement. You saw how you froze in the last fight. Not your fault — you were exhausted. But if I move a certain way, you need to know what I'm about to do. Even before I say it."

Kai opened the spellbook. The pages felt heavier than usual — or maybe that was just his arm.

He looked at Zayn. "So what's the plan? More lightning?"

"No." Zayn grinned. "More trust."

He walked over to the center of the room, cleared aside the chairs and pushed the nightstand toward the wall. The motel lamp crashed to the floor. Neither of them flinched.

Kai raised a brow. "You're setting up a training ground in a two-star motel room?"

Zayn's eyes sparked. "Don't need stars to get better."

Kai chuckled, coughing right after. "Fine. What's the first drill?"

Zayn crouched low, mimicking a defensive stance. "You recite Zaker every time I move right. Nothing more. I'm going to move at random — you react. If you're even half a second off, you don't cast."

Kai opened the book. His hand trembled slightly.

Zayn moved right.

Kai inhaled sharply. "Zaker!"

Lightning arced out — small, focused, just like they practiced.

Zayn rolled left. Nothing.

He shifted right again. "Zaker!"

Again, again, again.

They trained until Kai's breathing turned ragged. His throat burned. His back slicked with sweat. But his timing improved.

"I'm not doing the physical part," Kai murmured at one point, "but I feel like I ran a marathon."

"You're the brain. I'm the body," Zayn said. "But your brain's doing a hell of a lot more lifting right now."

By the third day, Kai had stopped flinching when Zayn raised his hand. He knew the rhythm now. Knew the moments to act, to wait, to risk. It wasn't about spells anymore — it was about trust.

"You're still slower than I want," Zayn said on the morning of the third day, pulling on his jacket. "But I think we're past the worst of it."

Kai leaned against the window, watching the city breathe beneath them. "So… we head back?"

"Yeah. Let's go home."

Zayn paused, then added, "Your mom's gonna kill you."

Kai groaned. "She suspects already. I told her it was a school trip, but she didn't buy it."

Zayn raised an eyebrow. "You gonna tell her the truth?"

Kai turned back to the window. "Not yet."

Outside, a breeze lifted the clouds. Sunlight broke through — just a little.

Kai shut the book.

"I'm not done getting stronger," he said. "Not yet."

The train ride home was quiet, except for the rhythmic hum of wheels on track and the occasional voice over the intercom. Kai sat by the window, head leaned against the cool glass, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Zayn sat beside him, arms crossed, silent for once.

Neither spoke for the first hour.

Then, softly, Zayn asked, "You gonna tell her anything?"

Kai didn't answer right away. The city outside blurred past, a wash of red-brick homes and skeletal trees. "She doesn't want the truth," he said at last. "She wants… a version of me that doesn't exist."

Zayn turned toward him. "Meaning?"

Kai closed his eyes. "I used to be different. Quiet, sure, but not distant. Not like this." He exhaled through his nose. "After my dad vanished, I think she tried to pretend things were still normal. But I couldn't. I never could."

Zayn didn't respond. He didn't have to. He just listened.

"She buried herself in work. Late nights, double shifts at the hospital. Always tired, always distracted. But she still looked at me like I was supposed to be holding everything together."

Kai's voice went lower. "I resented that. Still do, sometimes."

The train slowed. Their stop.

Home.

The apartment door creaked open before Kai could even fish out his keys. His mom stood there — arms folded, dressed in faded scrubs, eyes heavy with suspicion.

"You're two days late."

Kai avoided her gaze. "The school extended the trip."

"Oh really?" She stepped aside, letting him in with a sharp glance at Zayn. "And this school trip — it involved bruises? Limps? You think I wouldn't notice?"

Kai didn't answer. He stepped past her, walking into the small living room as Zayn trailed behind. Maddy peeked from the hallway, eyes wide, but quickly vanished when she caught their mother's glare.

"I'm fine," Kai said finally. "We were safe."

"That's not the point," his mom snapped. "You disappear with a boy I barely know, lie about where you're going, and show up looking like you've been in a bar fight!"

Zayn raised his hand half-heartedly. "It wasn't a bar fight."

Kai shot him a look. "Not helping."

His mother's voice softened, just slightly. "Kai… I'm not trying to control you. But ever since your father… you've been slipping away from me."

Silence.

"I don't know who you talk to anymore. What you do. You keep secrets."

Kai clenched his jaw. "I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection from my own son," she said. "I just want the truth."

He looked away. "I can't give you that."

Zayn shifted awkwardly. The tension in the room was suffocating.

After a long moment, his mother exhaled, shoulders dropping. "Go. Clean up. Eat something. You look like you haven't slept in days."

Kai turned toward the hallway.

But before he could leave, she added, "One of these days, Kai… you'll have to decide what kind of man you want to be."

He didn't respond.

He just kept walking.Kai sat on the edge of his bed, fingers trailing over the stitched seam of his bandage. The room was dim, save for the lone lamp by the desk. Outside, the city's distant sirens and stray car horns threaded through the nighttime hush.

Zayn lay on the floor, his head propped on a rolled sweatshirt. He looked up at Kai with uncharacteristic hesitation.

"You know bits of my story," Zayn said, voice low. "But I've never told you how it really began—how I first came here."

Kai swallowed hard. "I'd like to hear it."

Zayn pushed himself into a seated position. He glanced briefly at the open grimoire on the desk, its pages still warm from use. "In the Mamodo world, I was… nothing special. Just another challenger in the thousand–year tournament. I had one spell—weak, barely more than a spark. No name, no place, not even a last name that stuck. They sent me with the others—hundred of us—down to Earth, hoping our partners would turn our fortunes."

His eyes flicked to Kai. "But I lost my partner early on. My book was almost burnt before I even learned another spell. I thought I'd be sent back, erased."

Kai's throat tightened. "What saved you?"

Zayn's expression went distant. "I was wandering—hungry, cold—when I stumbled on an alley where you were sketching on the wall. You didn't know me. You didn't even know what I was. But you looked in my eyes, saw me shivering in the rain, and said, 'Come with me.'" He shook his head, a wry smile tugging his lips. "You didn't ask questions. You read my grimoire and said 'Zaker.' And when the lightning emerged, I realized… maybe I wasn't doomed."

He paused, blinking back something like relief. "That was my first memory on Earth."

Kai's eyes stung. "I almost didn't let you in."

"Because you thought I was a street kid." Zayn chuckled softly. "But you gave me a chance. Even when you had every reason not to."

Kai looked away. "I've had chances, too. Only I didn't know how to accept them."

He ran a hand through his hair. "When Dad disappeared, everything broke. Mum buried herself in work. I was left to… figure it out alone. I tried to be strong—but I was just lost."

He exhaled. "You made me feel like I could fight back. That I wasn't just… missing pieces."

Zayn reached out, resting a hand on Kai's shoulder. "We both were."

They sat in silence, the weight of their confessions settling around them like dust motes in the lamp's glow.

Kai broke the quiet. "I've been thinking… the battles, the spells—it's not just about winning. Or surviving. It's about what we become in the process."

Zayn nodded. "Your mind—your strategy—saved us more than once. And I… I protect you with my body. But neither of us can do it alone."

Kai closed his eyes. "I'm tired of pretending. Tired of the lies. My mum… she thinks I'm just on a school trip. She doesn't know about the tournament, about any of this."

Zayn's grip tightened. "She'll find out. Eventually."

Kai opened his eyes, determined and weary all at once. "Then I'd rather she learn the truth from me."

A long pause.

Zayn exhaled. "We'll figure out how. When the time is right."

Kai managed a small smile. "Promise?"

"Promise," Zayn said, voice firm.

Outside, a lone siren wailed again—an echo of the world they'd chosen to fight in. Inside, two broken souls had found a kind of home in each other's honesty. And as they settled back into their respective spots—Kai on the bed, Zayn on the floor—they felt something shift: not just recovery, but the first stirrings of genuine peace.