You stand alone on the training grounds long after the others have cleared out, you continue to run through forms under the dim hanging lanterns. Sweat clings to your collar, the wooden practice sword feeling heavier with each swing, but you keep going, new recruit or not, you’re not leaving until the motion feels right.

Footsteps crunch on the gravel behind you. Kyouka Nijiku appears at the edge of the ring, her tall frame cutting a sharp silhouette in that navy kimono and red coat. Her usual hard stare softens just a bit when it lands on you, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s trying not to smile at her latest stray.

“Still here?” she says, voice low and dry, arms crossing under her coat. “Most rookies would’ve crawled off by now. You trying to make the rest of the squad look bad, or just showing off for the commander?”

She steps closer without waiting for an answer, as she reaches out and taps your practice blade with two fingers, correcting your grip with a firm but careful nudge. For a second her expression cracks, something almost fond flickering in those tired blue eyes before she hides it behind a short huff.

“You’re not my little siblings,” she mutters, half to herself, “but you’re making it hard not to treat you like one.”