The recovery room was still.
Not the kind of stillness born from serenity, but the kind left behind when the fighting ends and nothing’s left to burn.
Koharu y propped against the wall, her coat folded neatly beside her, skin pale with exhaustion. Beside her, Ayase sat with his back to the same wall—breathing low, arms wrapped loosely over his knees.
The healers were gone.
There was nothing left for them to do.
Wounds sealed. No bleeding. Just empty Tamashkii.
Their reservoirs… dry.
A candle flickered in the center of the room, casting soft shadows. It was the only thing that moved.
Koharu spoke first.
“They only ever let Ancient rebel.”
Ayase didn’t look over. Just let the words hang.
Koharu’s voice tightened. “He was the only one they ever gave that kind of space. The only one they ever feared enough to step back from.”
She stared up at the ceiling. “I gave them the right to seal my Reibaku. When they did it… I didn’t fight back. I told myself I’d be strong enough to never need it.”
Silence.
Then—she exhaled, eyes narrowing.
“I was wrong.”
Ayase shifted just slightly, resting his head back against the wall.
“The pressure the Shingan released…” he said, voice quiet. “It wasn’t just strong. It was thick. Calcuted.”
He closed his eyes.
“If I’d gone against him one-on-one… I could’ve nded a few hits. Maybe even wounded him.”
A pause.
“But I would’ve died.”
His gaze turned toward her.
“You fought him. And one of the Death Phantoms. At the same time.”
He let the weight of that hang.
“You’re my captain. There’s nothing shameful in falling when you stood that tall.”
Koharu didn’t respond right away.
Then, slowly—she smiled.
Just a little.
But the light in her eyes hadn’t returned yet.
She looked toward the far corner.
“It’s not over.”
Ayase nodded once.
“I know.”
Koharu’s voice lowered. “He’s smarter than the st. The Shingan.”
“He didn’t come for victory. I sensed it in our battle. It was a test for us. To see if the Chūkan still had teeth.”
She looked over at Ayase.
“So the next time he returns…”
Ayase finished the thought for her.
“He’ll be stronger.”
A long pause.
Then—
He sighed.
“I held my own this time.”
“But if they all evolve…”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“We’ll need our squad.”
Koharu nodded slowly.
“I won’t involve our elites unless I have no choice.”
“The Jumōnban has protected this realm for decades. But if we truly want to break this cycle… I think the new blood must be the ones to end it.”
Ayase gave a dry chuckle.
“Funny. We sent them off to train…”
He looked over at her, a tired smirk forming.
“…but looks like we’re the ones who need it.”
Koharu ughed too, just under her breath.
“I haven’t truly talked to Shunrai in a while.”
She tilted her head back.
“Deepening my resonation… might be for the best.”
Ayase flexed his fingers once.
“I’ve been relying on Tamashkii attacks for too long.”
He looked down at his hands.
“Forgot what it feels like to focus on swordpy.”
Koharu turned toward him fully now, a tired smile pying at her lips.
“Look at us.”
“Feels like the day you were first assigned under me.”
Ayase arched a brow.
“You were much ruder back then.”
“You wouldn’t even acknowledge me for the first three missions.”
Koharu smirked.
“There was a cocky brat that showed up to my Gate. I had to let him know it wouldn’t be easy.”
She closed her eyes briefly.
“But I chose you. As my lieutenant.”
“So obviously… my opinion changed.”
He gave a short ugh.
They both did.
But then—
Koharu ughed a little too hard.
Her chest jolted.
“Ah—!”
Blood dripped from the corner of her lip.
Ayase shot forward. “Captain—”
The door burst open.
“Captain, you must remain still!” one of the healers barked, rushing in with glowing palms.
“You’ve reopened the inner ttice! You’ll undo everything!”
Another healer followed, muttering under her breath. “I told them not to talk too much…”
Ayase sat back against the wall again, watching them work.
Koharu winced, but her grin hadn’t faded.
The candle flickered.
Still burning.
Fade to bck.
