The house was unusually quiet that afternoon, sunlight spilling gently across the tatami mats. Kokoro knelt by the window, a small cup of tea resting in her hands as she watched the breeze stir the trees outside.

She had always valued peace like this—moments where training, expectations, and everything else could simply… pause.

Still, something her friend had said earlier lingered in her thoughts.

It’s surprisingly relaxing once you get used to it.

Kokoro tilted her head slightly, thoughtful.

Relaxing… she murmured.

She set her teacup aside, straightening her posture. Her training had taught her precise control over her body—balance, breathing, awareness. If this was simply another form of control… then perhaps it was worth understanding.

Taking an helium tank to her living room, she placed the hose on her mouth and moved the cylinder valve, the air flowing to her body while expanding her to a round, massively obese shape, her body getting light as a feather with more air filling it.

The sensation was unusual—gentle at first, like drifting in warm water. Kokoro’s expression softened in mild surprise, but she didn’t panic. Instead, she adjusted, just as she would during practice.

Oh… I see, she said quietly.

Her center of gravity shifted, her movements becoming slower, lighter—but not uncomfortable. Just… different. She found herself floating around the house with her back gently bumping against the ceiling in a slow, rhythmic way as she drifts forward.

She let out a small, thoughtful hum.

It does feel… calming. Kokoro admitted to herself.

When she's floating next to the doorway, she glanced toward it, as if expecting someone might walk in. Her hands instinctively placed on her round belly.

…Though, I suppose I should be mindful of the space.