Donna bounced on the balls of her feet, stretching her shoulders as Hikaru rolled his neck with an audible crack.
"Think you can land a hit?" she teased, a grin playing at her lips.
Hikaru grabbed a pair of training swords off the rack, spinning them experimentally. "I think I can land a couple more than that."
"Bold words."
"I'm a bold guy." He shifted into a loose stance.
She laughed, drawing her own blade. "Ready when you are."
"Born ready." His eyes flickering white for a brief moment.
Donna smirked. "Less talking, more fighting."
Her training sword whistled through the air, meeting Hikaru's guard with a sharp crack. Donna pressed forward, her Amazon training evident in every economical movement. He gave ground, adjusting his stance to compensate for her superior strength.
Their blades clashed in rapid succession—metal ringing through the training room. Donna's strikes came fast and precise, each one testing his defense. Hikaru blocked and parried, feeling the force behind each blow reverberate up his arms.
She swept low. He jumped back, countering with a horizontal slash she deflected effortlessly.
"You're thinking too much," Donna said, circling left.
"Maybe you're not thinking enough." He mirrored her movement.
She lunged. He sidestepped, their swords meeting in a bind. For a moment they stood locked together, neither giving ground.
"Nice try." She broke the bind with a twist, her blade arcing toward his ribs.
Hikaru pivoted, barely avoiding the strike. He countered with a quick series of cuts—high, low, middle. Donna deflected each one with practiced ease, her footwork flawless.
Their swords met again, the impact jolting through his wrists. She was stronger, better trained. He knew it. She knew it.
But he was faster.
Hikaru feinted right, ducked under her swing, and tapped the flat of his blade against her side.
They both froze.
"Point," he said, grinning.
Donna raised an eyebrow. "Lucky shot."
"Sure. Let's call it that."
"Better," Donna said, resetting. "You're learning not to rely on powers alone."
Hikaru wiped sweat from his forehead. They'd been at this for twenty minutes. "Hard habit to break when you're used to just turning into light and zipping away."
"Which won't help against someone who knows how to anticipate you." She demonstrated a feint, her practice blade stopping inches from his ribs. "See? You moved where I expected."
He let out a light laugh. "Point taken."
They circled each other in the training room. The rest of the team was scattered—Robin in the evidence room cataloging gear, Cyborg tinkering in his workshop, the others around the Tower somewhere.
Hikaru struck high, then pivoted low. Donna blocked both, but he caught the slight appreciation in her eyes.
"That transition was clean," she admitted. "Your father taught you well."
"When he bothered showing up." Hikaru shrugged, deflecting her counter. "Which wasn't often. But yeah, he's good with a blade. Eons of practice, apparently."
"Diana taught me," Donna said, her expression softening. "My sister. She'd say I was still too aggressive, too eager to end fights quickly."
"Is that the Amazon way? I'd have thought direct confrontation would be encouraged."
"Strength tempered by wisdom." Donna executed a textbook disarm that nearly sent his practice sword flying. "Though I'll admit, the wisdom part doesn't always stick when someone threatens my friends."
They reset again. Hikaru studied her form—balanced, grounded, precise. Everything his own style wasn't.
"Want to trade techniques?" he asked. "I'll show you some of Lucifer's moves if you teach me Amazon sword work."
Donna's smile was genuine. "Deal."
For the next half hour, they took turns demonstrating. Donna showed him proper footwork, the way Amazons used their whole body in each strike, how to maximize leverage against stronger opponents. Hikaru reciprocated with Lucifer's elegant style—economical, almost lazy-looking movements that concealed devastating precision.
"Your father fights like someone who's bored with combat," Donna observed, mimicking the flowing parry he'd demonstrated.
"Probably because he is." Hikaru adjusted her grip. "When you've been alive since creation, I guess most fights feel repetitive."
"Must be strange, having a father like that."
"Could say the same about having Wonder Woman as a sister."
Donna laughed, the sound echoing in the training room. "Fair point."
The door slid open. Starfire floated in, her feet barely touching the ground, curiosity bright in her green eyes.
"I heard the sounds of combat," she said. "You are training?"
"Sparring," Hikaru confirmed. "Trading sword techniques."
Starfire's face lit up. "Oh! May I join? The Warlords of Okaara taught me many blade skills during my warrior training."
Hikaru and Donna exchanged glances. "Why not?" Donna said. "Could be interesting."
Starfire grabbed a practice sword, testing its weight with a few experimental swings. Then she moved—and Hikaru's eyebrows rose. Her style was completely different from either his or Donna's. Wild, aggressive, full of aerial maneuvers and spinning strikes that would be impossible for someone who couldn't fly.
"Whoa," he said, ducking under a particularly enthusiastic swing.
"The Warlords of Okaara are renowned experts in all forms of martial combat." Starfire explained, landing lightly. "Their expertise extended beyond merely the art of killing, it included the philosophy of combat and the humanities."
"They taught you well," Donna agreed, blocking a overhead strike that would've been devastating with a real blade.
They fell into a rhythm—three-way sparring that felt more like choreography than combat. Starfire would attack from above, Donna would counter with grounded strength, and Hikaru would slip between them both, trying to create openings. None of them went full force, but sweat soon soaked through their training gear.
In the lapse between blows the three found themselves exchanging satisfied grins.
Then the alarm blared.
All three froze mid-strike, heads snapping toward the doorway. Kid Flash materialized in a red blur.
"Trouble outside! Some kind of flying probe attacking someone!"
They dropped their practice swords and ran.
The team assembled on the roof in seconds. Hikaru's eyes tracked the aerial combat happening over the bay—a pink alien probe with four writhing tentacles pursuing a dark-haired girl in a black and lavender suit. She dodged and weaved, firing bursts of purple energy at her attacker.
"Titans! GO!" Robin ordered.
Hikaru spread his wings and launched skyward, Starfire and Donna right behind him. Raven's dark energy platform carried the others up. The girl noticed their approach, and for a split second, her attention wavered.
The probe's tentacles lashed out.
She twisted, but one caught her ankle. Then Hikaru hit the probe with a photon blast, forcing it to release her. Starfire and Donna flanked it, drawing its attention. The girl recovered her balance, charging energy in both hands.
Light purple starbolts—identical to Starfire's green ones—erupted from her palms. The probe disintegrated in a spectacular explosion.
The girl floated there, breathing hard, scanning the assembled Titans. Her eyes locked on Starfire.
"I see you haven't changed a bit," she said, her voice carrying a mix of affection and something else Hikaru couldn't quite identify.
Starfire gasped. "Sister!"
Hikaru's eyes narrowed. Sister. Black hair. Purple starbolts. Black and purple suit.
Blackfire.
And if his comic knowledge was right, this reunion was about to get complicated.