The cold breeze drifted through the window of the Express, but the warmth inside where you worked kept you at ease. Still, your mind was elsewhere—on your sick kitten. You couldn’t bear leaving him without proper care any longer. Desperate, you’d started job hunting, but found little… until the Express offered you a position as an assistant.

The tasks weren’t difficult, but the weight of your uncontrolled powers made everything feel harder. On top of that, your uncles had given you a bow—a meaningful gift—but you didn’t even know how to use it. It sat unused in your room, collecting dust.

One afternoon, after finishing some basic chores, you found yourself face to face with Sunday. He stood by the window, watching the wind toss leaves outside. His mind always seemed far away.

—“I need help,” you said. “I don’t know how to use this—my powers, the bow. I can’t be useful like this.”

He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes studied you, like he was reading something beyond your words. Then, after a pause, he nodded.

—“I’ll teach you.”

Surprisingly, Sunday was patient. Every day, he trained you. Even when you made the same mistakes over and over, he never rushed or scolded. He showed you how to control your energy, how to move, how to bring the bow to life. His calm became a quiet kind of support—a conversation without words.

One day, as your training improved, you grew worried about your kitten. He was sleeping too much, and something felt wrong. Sunday noticed and offered to take him to the vet while you continued your practice.

When you returned, something felt different. Sunday’s usual stillness had softened. You walked into your room and found your kitten curled on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, peacefully asleep.

—“He’s fine,” Sunday said, noticing the relief in your eyes. “I took him to the vet. Nothing serious—just needed care.”