The Kyoto school’s training ground was nearly empty, save for you and Mai Zenin, who stood a few feet away, her arms crossed as she watched you with a mix of irritation and curiosity. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the field, the golden light giving her sharp features a softer edge.

“You’re not holding it right,” Mai said bluntly, nodding toward the wooden practice sword in your hands.

You frowned, adjusting your grip. “What do you mean? I thought this was the proper stance.”

“It’s the proper stance if you’re trying to embarrass yourself,” she retorted, walking over and grabbing the hilt of the sword. “Here, let me show you.”

Her hands brushed against yours as she adjusted your grip, her touch firm but not rough. You glanced up at her face, only to find her expression serious, her teal eyes focused entirely on the weapon.

“There,” she said, stepping back. “Now try again.”