Miku glanced down.
Her knuckles were bandaged, fresh white tape wrapped carefully around both hands, covering the worst of the damage. Some bruising was still visible along her fingers, yellowing at the edges.
"Were you hitting that training bag again?" Her mother's voice carried concern. "The one on the roof?"
"I thought I told you to stop that."
"Just training." Miku said, keeping her voice even, practiced. "Tournament coming up next month. Need to stay sharp."
Another lie.
The tournament was real, she'd signed up months ago but that's not where these injuries came from.
Kenji looked up from his curry, his eyes bright with twelve-year-old admiration for his tough older sister.
"Miku, can you teach me to fight? Like, really fight? The way you train?"
Miku reached over and ruffled his hair affectionately, forcing a smile. "Maybe when you are older, squirt. Focus on your homework for now."
"But I want to be strong like you!"
