A full week had already passed since Sensei arrived. Tonight's training had concluded, and deep into the quiet hours after everyone had fallen asleep, I sat alone under the moonlight, sipping sake.
"Phew…"
Pouring the liquor into my cup, I downed it in a single breath. The Japon sake slid down my throat, its refreshing umami and subtle sweetness spreading across my palate.
As I sat there drinking in solitude, Bisky suddenly sat down beside me. Good grief, to think I failed to notice her approach. I hadn't thought I had drunk that much.
"What's this? Drinking all alone, pouring for yourself without a shred of feminine charm. Pour me a cup too."
"A drinking glass? How utterly devoid of elegance. Japon sake is strictly meant to be enjoyed from an ochoko cup or a sake saucer."
With a sigh, I handed the emptied cup to Bisky and poured for her.
"Oh, spare me the lecture. Alcohol is alcohol as long as it gets drunk. Hmm, Japon Daiginjo[1], is it? …Yeah, a bit on the sweet side, but not bad at all. …So, what's eating at you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why are you brooding over drinks all by yourself?"
"I have no particular reason. I simply felt like drinking, so I drank."
"'No particular reason,' my foot. Whenever something's weighing on your mind, you always end up drinking alone like this. …Don't tell me you never noticed that about yourself?"
"…That is news to me. Is that truly the case?"
Reflecting on the times I had indulged in solitary drinks in the past… ah, she might actually have a point.
"I suppose you are right. When thoughts trouble my mind, I tend to behave this way."
"Right? So, want me to guess what's on your mind?"
"…Be my guest."
"It's about Kurapika, isn't it? Am I wrong?"
"..."
"'I refuse to accept the man who stole Sensei's attention. I'll expose him as an unworthy fraud right before Sensei's eyes.' That was your plan coming in. But seeing him firsthand, there was no way you could overlook his sheer genius. Your emotions refuse to accept him, but your rational mind as a martial artist cannot help but acknowledge him. You're torn in that internal conflict, aren't you?"
Haaah… I suppose I should expect nothing less from Bisky. To think she could read my heart so thoroughly.
"Are you secretly a Specialist? Did you read my mind?"
"Oh my, hit the bullseye, did I?"
It wasn't a wild guess. We have known each other far too well for far too long.
"You are entirely correct. I had no intention of acknowledging a peeping tom as Sensei's disciple. I intended to use this dojo training camp to teach him his place. …However, I am honestly in awe. I have spent my long life immersed in the martial arts. I have seen countless disciples. Yet never before have I witnessed someone of such extraordinary talent. …And to witness three such prodigies simultaneously."
"I know what you mean. I was completely flabbergasted myself. When Aisha told me she took on a student, I knew the kid had to be talented, but not to that degree."
Bisky handed the emptied cup back to me, and I refilled it. Taking a sip, I returned the gesture.
"In just one week, they have grown at an impossible speed. It is the first time I have ever witnessed such tangible, visible progress day after day. …Rather than anger or resentment, what welled up inside me as a martial artist was pure envy."
Kurapika had already reached a level where finding a worthy sparring partner among our dojo disciples was becoming difficult. His aura capacity rivaled or exceeded that of a mid-tier Pro Hunter. Having trained directly against Sensei, his reflexes in countering Aiki locks were beyond what an ordinary practitioner could overcome. All he lacked was practical combat experience.
Gon-san and Killua-san likewise possessed extraordinary genius; their growth was astonishing, akin to pouring water over parched sand.
"I feel the exact same way. Honestly, I've felt envious more times than I can count. I only reached that realm in my late twenties. I really want to see just how far they can go. …And that goes for Aisha too. There was a specific reason she took Kurapika as her disciple, but I'm certain part of her just genuinely wants to see how strong he can become."
"A reason? Come to think of it, I never asked. Did Sensei not simply take a liking to his talent?"
"Oops… slipped my tongue. Well, let's blame it on the alcohol. Don't you dare tell her I told you."
From Bisky's lips spilled the gruesome tragedy of Kurapika's past. A young man who lost his brethren, his friends, and his family, trapped in the inescapable web of vengeance.
"So that's the story. Ugh! Now the sake tastes bitter."
"You are the one who brought it up. …I see. So that is how it was."
Now everything made sense. Strict as Sensei's training regimens usually were, hearing the details of the grueling routine Kurapika had endured had made me hold my head in disbelief. I had thought to show him hell at this dojo, but he tackled exercises that made seasoned disciples collapse with composure to spare. Even when pushed to his limits, his expression subtly conveyed: 'Is this all?'
Compared to what Sensei had put him through, our training could hardly be called hell.
Sensei had designed that brutal curriculum solely because she did not want him to die.
I have heard of the Phantom Troupe's notorious infamy. Given that Blacklist Hunters have failed to capture them, their combat prowess must be formidable. In a rule-free, fight-to-the-death battle, only a handful of Kazama-ryu disciples could hope to survive. In a real bloodbath, one-versus-many scenarios are standard. If I were forced to face the entire Phantom Troupe at once, my only logical move would be immediate retreat.
…Though Sensei could probably crush them with ease!
"Here, have another cup."
"Mm… phew. The moon is beautiful tonight."
"It is. …Feel better now?"
"Not particularly. There was nothing to get over in the first place."
"Hehe, such a liar."
"Well, I suppose I can acknowledge Kurapika-san a little. …Do not misunderstand. I only acknowledge his talent. I have not been swayed by pity."
"Tsundere much?"
"'Tsundere'? What nonsense is that? You use the strangest vocabulary at times."
"Drinking under the night sky really is something special."
"Indeed. An evening like this is quite pleasant once in a while."
We sat together in silence, exchanging cups beneath the celestial glow. Before I realized it, the knot in my chest had dissolved into thin air.
…To think Bisky has saved me like this for a second time.
"Bisky."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
"…You're welcome."
"Hehe, look at you blushing. How adorable."
"Hey! Stop that! You know I hate when you get all mushy!"
"Oh, don't pretend. You don't truly dislike it, do you? You keep a straight face when you lie, but whenever you're flustered, the veins on the bridge of your nose give you away."
"Wait! Seriously?!"
"No, I lied. But it seems I've caught my bashful little lady."
"Why you—!"
Fliustered and defensive as always. Truly, she is an endearing person.
We passed the night in comfortable banter, sharing laughter beneath the pale light. Ah, tonight's moon is truly magnificent.
...
"Oh, by the way, I happen to have a photo book of Aisha that I compiled—"
"—I will buy it for 1 billion. Furthermore, I demand an exclusive contract. Promise me it will never be distributed to anyone else, and I will triple it to 3 billion!"
"Deal! Here you go."
Snatching the album from Bisky's hands, I slowly turned the pages.
There, captured in vivid detail, were hundreds of photographs of Sensei dressed in stunning, gorgeous outfits I had never before laid eyes upon!
"Ahhh! Valhalla is real!"
"By the way, Vol. 2 should be ready before the end of August."
"Bisky."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you from the bottom of my heart!"
"You are very welcome."
The Unspoken Truce
"Kurapika-san."
"Haaah… haaah… Y-Yes, Person?"
After our sparring session concluded, Lady Linna unexpectedly called out to me.
How many times had she addressed me like this? Every previous encounter had been accompanied by cutting remarks or venomous glares. When Aisha was present, she held back, but Aisha had stepped out on personal business today. Haaah, what verbal lashing awaits me this time?
"Your counter just now was splendid. It shows that your extensive sparring with Aisha-san was not in vain. However, your follow-up attack was slightly reckless. Sensing his broken balance, you lunged forward prematurely, allowing him to exploit your momentum and land a counter.
Do not rush. Observe your opponent's movements with absolute focus. Look into their eyes to read their intent. Look at their aura to gauge their fighting spirit. Remember: opportunity and crisis are two sides of the same coin."
With those parting words, Lady Linna turned and walked over toward Gon.
…Wait. Did she just give me… genuine advice?
"Hey, Kurapika, what was that about? For her to give you constructive advice is downright supernatural."
"I have no idea myself… We've barely spoken civilly before. The most I ever received were sharp barbs and cold scowls."
Killua had spoken with her far more than I had. That was how much she despised me. What brought about this sudden change of heart?
"Hmm, beats me. Anyway, forget that—spar with me next!"
"Very well. I will not hold back."
"Naturally. If you did, I'd kick your ass."
Both of us moved toward the starting line—and instantly unleashed simultaneous ambush strikes!
"Tch!"
"Kh! As expected of Killua! Catching you off-guard is no easy feat!"
"Damn straight! I'm way better at dirty fighting than tournament matches!"
Surrounding disciples paid no heed to our sudden clash, continuing their respective routines.
Always on the battlefield. That was the core tenet Grandmaster Ryusho Kazama had inscribed at the innermost wall of the dojo. Real combat knows no concept of cowardice. The victor is righteous; the dead have no voice.
A school that values etiquette and martial decorum would never actively promote treachery. However, allowing oneself to be caught off-guard was equally inexcusable. A martial artist struck by surprise was not the victim of foul play—merely inadequate in their own discipline.
"Haaah!"
"Damn it! I still can't beat you in raw aura output!"
Exchanging rapid blows reinforced with aura, the advantage leaned slightly in my favor. As Killua noted, my aura volume still surpassed his. However, Killua is a Transmuter, granting him higher physical reinforcement efficiency. His combat instincts, reflexes, and evasion honed within the Zoldyck estate were exceptional, closing the gap between our reserves.
…To possess such lethal experience at his age speaks volumes of the torment he must have endured. Even during Aisha's grueling training, Killua had looked almost cheerful. It made me realize just how agonizing his upbringing had been if our training felt like play.
Still, while the Zoldycks may be cruel, Aisha's training is truly terrifying.
"There!"
"Whoa?!"
Seizing a momentary gap in our exchange, my chain lashed out and coiled around his ankle. In a no-holds-barred spar, weapons are fair game.
Before he could recover his balance, I reeled in the slack, binding his limbs entirely.
"Damn it! Aaargh, I lost again!"
"Heh, close, Killua. But I cannot afford to let you catch up so easily."
Gritting his teeth in frustration, Killua muttered under his breath. Glancing around to ensure the disciples were occupied, I lowered my voice.
"(Killua. You weren't fighting at full power, were you?)"
"(…Yeah. But how'd you tell?)"
"(You seemed frustrated, but not genuinely devastated.)"
"(…Well, yeah. I don't feel like busting out my real Hatsu with all these eyes watching.)"
Just as I thought. Killua had developed his own signature Nen ability, yet chose not to reveal it in public. That is wise. Displaying one's hand invites countermeasures.
I, too, carry my chains in plain sight to pass them off as real steel, concealing their true nature.
"(However, Killua, if you never use your Hatsu against a living opponent, you cannot gauge its practical limits.)"
"(I know that. But what else am I supposed to do?)"
"(…Then we should test our abilities among ourselves.)"
"(Just you, me, and Gon?)"
"(And Aisha. Having her observe will provide invaluable insights.)"
"(…Yeah, good point. We can trust Aisha.)"
I had developed my abilities, but had yet to test them on an opponent. Testing against Gon and Killua under Aisha's guidance would be ideal.
"Hey, Kurapika! My turn next!"
"Very well, Gon. But only one match."
"Okay!"
Naturally, Gon begged for a rematch the instant he lost. True to form, he is delightfully predictable.
Afterward, we brought up the private training idea with Gon, who enthusiastically agreed. All that remained was consulting Aisha when she returned before dinner.
Yet dinner came and went, and Aisha did not return.
Shadows of the Past
Stepping out from the dojo headquarters, I walked along the city streets. Skyscrapers that did not exist fourteen years ago now lined the horizon, marking the passage of time. Watching a city you once guarded grow unfamiliar in your absence stirs a quiet loneliness.
Trendy storefronts with vibrant, unconventional architecture bustled with young women laughing, dining, and shopping. Modern fashion, I suppose. I felt completely detached from it all—a relic stranded in an unfamiliar era.
…I am growing sentimental. The impending meeting has made me anxious.
I was heading toward the Cosa Family estate—the place where my mother rests, and where he resides.
He—Dominic Cosa, my father.
The boss of the Cosa Family, a syndicate under the Ten Dons. Known as a moderate faction within the Mafia, they avoided harming civilians. Had they been ruthless thugs terrorizing the innocent, I—as Ryusho—would have wiped them out decades ago.
A mafia boss I had never met in my previous life. What bizarre fate caused me to be reincarnated as his daughter?
Being born at Menfil General Hospital, barely 500 meters from my former dojo, was surely no coincidence.
Had I not reincarnated, Dominic might have lived peacefully with his wife and family. Even now, he has never remarried. He truly loved my mother, Mischa. I could not visit her grave in secret without confronting him.
I intend to tell him that I am the daughter whose birth took Mischa's life. He may very well try to kill me, and I would not blame him. But I must thank her at least once.
My steps felt heavy. Though I should have arrived by noon, it was already past 3:00 PM.
Eventually, a grand white estate appeared before me, enclosed by high walls, iron gates, surveillance cameras, and guard dogs.
Stepping up to the gate, I pressed the intercom.
'State your business.'
The voice was surprisingly polite and refined.
"Um…"
'Yes? What is it?'
"Er…"
Why couldn't I speak? All I had to ask was: 'Is Dominic-san available? I would like to see him.'
'…If this is a prank, leave. We do not have time for games.'
"Wait! Is Dominic-san in?!"
'…What business do you have with the Boss? He has no mistresses, and you carry no packages. You know what kind of house this is, don't you? Give me a suspicious answer, and you won't leave in one piece.'
The tone shifted instantly into cold intimidation. Yet fear did not grip me. My only dread was how Dominic Cosa would react to the truth.
"I came to see Dominic-san. We have no appointment. …May I see him?"
'…Don't waste my time, girl. Go home before you get hurt.'
"Please tell him that Mischa Cosa's daughter has come to see him."
'—?! What did you say?! …No, you do resemble the Madame… But that's impossible!'
'What proof do you have?'
"…I have none."
'Don't mock me! To impersonate the Madame's child—I'll blow your—'
'Hold it!' another voice barked over the speaker. 'Zaza-san?!'
'Quiet. …Hey, girl. Can you use Nen?'
"…Yes, I can."
'Is the aura you're emitting right now your real aura? Or are you concealing it?'
"...I am concealing it."
'Then show me the real thing.'
Checking with En to ensure no bystanders were nearby, I deactivated Angel's Veil.
Instantly, my aura flared into the open.
A dark, ominous presence rivaling Hisoka's rolled off my skin. Even unrefined, its sinister weight was suffocating.
'Wh-What the—! She's an assassin targeting the Boss—'
'I told you to shut up!!' Zaza roared. '…I see. So your claim isn't entirely baseless. …Wait there. I'll inform the Boss.'
After five minutes, ten suited men emerged from the front doors—all Nen users, tense and on edge. To them, the monster infant from fourteen years ago had returned.
"Follow me. Try anything funny, and you know what happens."
Surrounded by armed guards, I was escorted inside to a spacious study. Seated on a large sofa was an aging gentleman with tired, sorrowful eyes—the spitting image of the photograph on the Hunter database. Behind him stood two elite bodyguards.
"...Sit."
I took the seat opposite him. His gaze dissected my face, posture, and hair with intense scrutiny.
"...You truly look like Mischa. Identical, in fact. …What is your name?"
"Aisha."
"Kh! …Aisha. The exact name Mischa chose for a daughter."
The guards stirred, but Dominic raised his hand.
"Yet Mischa died, and I discarded the child she bore. Even if that child survived, she would never have been given that name. …Where did you learn it?"
"Mother gave it to me. It is my treasured name."
"Mother? Mischa died right before my eyes!" he shouted, grief bleeding through his fury.
"I have possessed my memories since the moment of my birth," I said calmly. "When I was dropped from the airship into Meteor City, no one would take me in. But as I lay dying, a Nen manifestation created by Mother—holding all her memories and love—manifested to raise and protect me."
Dominic stood up in shock. "A Nen beast of Mischa…?! Don't mock me!"
"I am not mocking you! Mother sacrificed her lingering spirit to manifest and nurture me! I will never allow her devotion to be treated as a lie!"
Dominic sank back into his sofa, his breathing ragged. "Tell me the rest."
I recounted everything: how Mother taught me, how she described their courtship, and their private moments.
"—The proposal came from you. Your exact words were: 'I love you. If you don't marry me, I'll die!'"
"Pffft—hahahaha!" Dominic burst into helpless laughter, tears welling in his eyes. "To think a Mafia boss proposed like that… Mischa, you really had to tell her that?"
He looked at me, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions in his gaze.
"Why come now? To seek revenge?"
"No. I deserved to be discarded for what happened."
"Then why?"
"I only wished to visit Mother's grave… just once."
"Just once?! After fourteen years?! Where were you all this time?!"
I fell to my knees in dogeza, pressing my forehead against the floor. "Please! Allow me to see Mother! If you grant this, I swear I will never approach you or this house again!"
"Stop it! Don't look at me with Mischa's face!"
I heard the click of a gun being cocked. Yet I remained bowed.
BANG!
The gunshot echoed. The bullet tore through the floorboards inches from my ear. He had missed intentionally.
"...Get out. Never show your face before me again."
"I—"
"Behind the manor," he muttered gruffly. "There is an iris garden Mischa planted. Her grave is there. See it and leave. I won't repeat myself."
"…Thank you."
Stepping out to the rear grounds, I found a pristine field of irises surrounding a white marble headstone engraved: 'Here lies Mischa Cosa, beloved wife of Dominic Cosa.'
Tears spilled uncontrollably down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Mother… for taking your happiness away. If not for me, you and Father would have lived happily together. …And thank you, for giving your life so that I could live."
I wept until the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Touching the cool stone one last time, I whispered my farewells, bowed toward the manor window where Dominic's silhouette stood watching, and departed into the night.
A Sanctuary Found
When I returned to the Kazama-ryu Dojo, midnight had long passed.
Stepping past the courtyard, three familiar figures sprang up from the dining hall.
"Aisha! You're back!"
"You're late! The food's completely cold!"
"Welcome back, Aisha. You haven't eaten, have you? Come, let us eat together."
Gon, Killua, and Kurapika were waiting with a full spread of dinner.
"You… you waited for me all this time?"
"Of course! Food always tastes better when everyone eats together!"
Tears welled in my eyes once more. Wiping them frantically, I couldn't stop them from falling.
"Aisha, are you alright? What happened?"
"You don't have to carry everything alone," Kurapika said softly. "You may be stronger than us, but you are still our friend."
Ah, Mother… I truly am blessed. I have found such wonderful friends.
"Thank you, everyone. …Could I ask for a small favor tonight?"
"Anything!" Gon beamed.
"Would you mind… if we all slept in the same room tonight?"
Gon smiled warmly: "Of course!"
Killua and Kurapika froze in unison: 'How did it come to this?!'
The Garden's Whisper
Under the pale moonlight, Dominic Cosa stood alone before his wife's headstone, listening to the gentle rustle of the iris blossoms.
"Mischa… our daughter grew up to be a stunning beauty, just like you. …You raised an incredible girl all on your own. Be proud, my love. You truly were the greatest wife a man could ask for."
Only the night wind answered his call.