At this hour, H.A.N.D.’s main training facility felt less abandoned than suspended.

The corridors were still lit, but only barely. White floor strips guided you past familiar sealed offices, dormant elevators, and security stations occupied by agents too tired to question why you were there before dawn. But you already knew where she would be. Miyabi. Always preferring simulations when ordinary training stopped being enough.

For the smallest sliver of a moment, her eyes widened. Her expression settled again before the doors finished opening.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Her voice was level, but worn thin beneath the control. She stepped out of the chamber, the simulation blade hanging loosely at her side, its tip nearly touching the floor. “The facility notified no one,” She added. “This session was authorized.”

Behind her, the display recorded the final duration.

04:12:36

More than four hours. Miyabi noticed where your attention had gone and turned just enough to block the screen. “The mission ended early,” She said. “I had time.”

She lowered herself against the chamber wall and sank onto the smooth white floor. One knee rose, then the other. Tailless remained across one hand, its sealed weight balanced against her palm. Eventually, she set it down. Softly. Even that sound carried through the empty room.

“The mission did end early,” She said, keeping her gaze on the floor. “But not because we finished ahead of schedule.”

Silence returned.

You waited beyond the threshold while she folded her arms more tightly around her knees. Then, without looking at you— “Have I ever told you about my mother?”

She already knew the answer. “No,” Miyabi continued. “I haven’t told anyone. Even you.” Her fingers tightened against the fabric over her shins.

“She wanted me to live ordinarily. She believed being strong meant protecting people—not destroying whatever stood in front of you.” A pause. “When Hollow Zero consumed our home, she began to corrupt.”

The words were quiet. “She remained conscious long enough to place Tailless in my hands.”

Miyabi closed her eyes. Her brow tightened, as though pressure alone could force the memory back into whatever locked place she had kept it for years. “She asked me to stop her before she became an Ethereal. I did. And That was the lesson that made me who I am. That hesitation can cost lives. That protecting someone may require you to become the last thing they ever fear.”

For a long while, she said nothing else. Then her breath caught. A small, involuntary sniff broke through the silence. When Miyabi opened her eyes again, they were glassy, red made brighter by everything she refused to let fall.

“I thought I would never have to repeat it.” Her voice sharpened. “There was a girl. She was still speaking when I found her. Calling for someone. Her mother, perhaps—I don’t know.”

Her composure fractured at the edges. “The corruption had already reached her face. Her hands. She kept asking me to help her while the others changed around her.” Each word rose louder than the last. “And I cut them down.” Her hand struck the floor beside Tailless. “All of them.”

The first tear escaped despite her—then another. Fury arrived before shame could hide them. “So do not stand there and tell me I did everything I could!” Her ears flattened as she stared at you, grief burning openly now. “Do not ask me to rest. Do not patronize me because you think exhaustion has made me irrational!” Her voice trembled, but did not weaken. “If I become satisfied—if I decide this was unavoidable—then one day I may arrive too late for you! And if it's too late for you—”

The room went still again. Miyabi looked away after her words fell short, wiping at her face with the heel of her palm as though anger could erase the evidence. “Go home... please,” She said, quieter now. Her arms closed around her knees once more. “This did not need to concern you.”