Morning light spilled across the training yard in thin bands, warming the stone beneath Kaito's bare feet.
He stood still, breathing in, breathing out.
His body still hurt—but it was different now. The pain was dull, manageable. No longer sharp enough to steal his breath. The bandages around his torso were lighter, the healing salves doing their work.
Aria watched from the edge of the yard with Ryo, Mira, Liona, and the others. They didn't interrupt. This was Kaito's decision.
Dex sat nearby, alert and quiet.
Kaito tightened his grip on the spear.
"Slow," he muttered to himself. "Don't rush it."
He stepped forward and performed the first motion—simple, controlled. A short thrust. No flourish. No force behind it beyond what his body allowed.
It worked.
No tearing pain. No collapse.
Kaito exhaled, shoulders relaxing just slightly.
He moved again.
A pivot. A low sweep. The spear hummed softly through the air, steady in his hands. His stance wasn't perfect, but it was balanced. Stronger than yesterday. Stronger than the day before.
Aria noticed first. "He's not shaking."
Ryo nodded. "He's compensating less."
Kaito finished the sequence and paused, chest rising and falling. Sweat rolled down his back, but he stayed upright.
Progress.
He planted the spear and leaned against it, letting the moment settle. Inside his chest, the familiar heat stirred—present, but quiet. Controlled. It didn't surge. It didn't demand release.
Good.
"I won't use you yet," he thought. "But I won't fear you either."
Dex padded over and bumped his leg with a soft huff. Kaito smirked faintly and crouched, ruffling the husky's fur. The movement tugged at his side, but he didn't flinch this time.
"Guess you think I'm doing okay," he said quietly.
Dex wagged his tail once.
Kaito stood again and raised the spear, this time facing the training dummies at the far end of the yard. He didn't attack immediately. Instead, he adjusted his footing, corrected his grip, and focused.
One strike.
The dummy cracked but didn't shatter.
Kaito nodded. "Enough."
He stepped back before exhaustion could take him. Before pride could push him too far.
Aria approached, arms folded but expression softer than before. "That was smart," she said. "Stopping when you did."
Kaito shrugged lightly. "Almost dying teaches you a few things."
Her smile faded, but she nodded. "You're getting stronger again."
He looked down at his hands—scarred, steady, alive. "Yeah," he said. "And this time, I'm not wasting it."
Behind the academy walls, unseen and unheard, eyes watched from a distance.
Not to attack.
Not yet.
Because the prey was no longer broken.
And the hunt would be far more dangerous now.