It was night, and time for dinner.
But Kaito's mind wasn't at the table—it was still trapped in the playground, replaying the events from earlier with Yumi and Reiji.
His mother had already served an array of dishes—steaming rice, grilled fish, vegetables seasoned just right. Toru and Hana were already eating. Hina, his little sister, was happily digging into her food.
Kaito, however, sat with his chopsticks in hand, unmoving.
"Hey, big brother," Hina said.
No reply.
"Big brother," she repeated.
Still nothing.
She tried again. "Big brother!"
On the fourth call, Kaito finally turned. "Hmmm? What's up?"
She tilted her head, worry in her big eyes. "You haven't touched your food at all… is something wrong?"
Kaito's gaze immediately dropped to his plate. He glanced at his parents, who were already watching him closely.
"Kaito," Toru said. "Why aren't you eating?"
"Are you not hungry?" Hana asked.
Kaito gave an awkward smile. "No, no. It's nothing. I'm fine."
He picked up a small bite, forcing himself to chew. His parents and sister exchanged silent glances.
After a few mouthfuls, he spoke. "Dad."
Toru looked at him. "What is it?"
Kaito twirled his chopsticks nervously. "The thing is… earlier today, I met Yumi and brother Reiji."
"You met them? That's good, then," Toru said.
Kaito's grip on his chopsticks tightened. "There was nothing good about it." His voice was low, but heavy enough to be heard.
Toru's eyes narrowed slightly. "Nothing good? Did something happen?"
Kaito hesitated, then spoke. "Yumi was being bullied by other kids. When I saw it, I went to help her." He paused, looking at his mother. "She told me the reason she was being bullied… and I felt bad for her. Just because she can't do what they can, just because she doesn't have… a dad, they laughed at her."
His parents' eyes met—quiet, concerned.
Kaito continued. "A few minutes later, he showed up."
"Who?" Toru asked.
"Reiji," Kaito said, his fist clenching. "He's not the Reiji I remember. He's changed—the way he speaks, the way he moves, the way he treats Yumi… he's cold. Completely different."
Kaito looked down into his plate, his reflection staring back at him. The memory of Reiji's sudden movement and the kick replayed in his mind—the way his body refused to respond afterward.
"Yumi was scared of him," Kaito said quietly. "I tried to help, but it didn't matter. He kicked me once… and I couldn't move. My whole body was shut down."
"What was that?" he asked his parents. "All he did was kick me, and I couldn't move."
Before they could answer, Hina spoke. "It's an attack that paralyzes your opponent. You send your Vital Pulse into their body on contact—it stops their nerves from working."
Kaito froze, staring at her. The words of other kids mocking him—you're not that impressive—flashed in his mind, alongside Reiji's voice calling him weak.
He bit his lip. "Nobody asked you."
Hina's smile faded. "I was just trying to help… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
Toru's eyes hardened. "Kaito. She's your sister. Don't talk to her that way."
"I know she's my sister, but I wasn't talking to her," Kaito replied.
Hana's voice was firm. "She was only trying to help."
"That's the problem!" Kaito snapped, hitting the table. "I don't need her to help me."
The room fell silent. Hina lowered her gaze.
Toru stood. "Kaito… what's gotten into you lately?"
Kaito looked around the table—at their worried faces. His fists tightened. "Nothing. Thank you for the meal."
He stood, walked to his room, and shut the door hard behind him, ignoring his mother calling after him.
The door clicked shut behind him, sealing away the faint clatter of dishes from the dining room.
Kaito slid down until his back met the cool wood, knees pulled tight to his chest. The chill from the floor seeped through his clothes, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in his chest.
He lowered his hands, staring at the small calluses on his palms — proof of all his training, yet…
"Am I really… weak?" he whispered, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.
Hina sat in her chair, eyes fixed on nothing.
Toru stepped beside her, his shadow falling over the table, and gently brushed a hand over her hair.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "Everything's going to be fine."
Hina's small fingers reached up, curling around his hand. "Hmm…" she breathed, the sound soft but heavy with sadness.
Across the table, Hana watched them, worry clouding her gaze.
The morning breeze was cold and still, carrying a chill that mirrored the silence between Kaito and Hina. The training field was quiet — no laughter, no chatter — just the soft rustle of leaves.
Kaito stood opposite Hina, his jaw tight, eyes sharp but cold. Hina's small frame was steady, her expression unreadable, brows slightly furrowed as she met her brother's gaze without a word.
"Are you sure this is going to be alright?" Hana asked Toru, who was standing beside her.
"Don't worry, it's going to be fine. What's the worst that can happen, right?" Toru said, trying to ease her mind.
Hana jabbed him lightly in the stomach. "You're not helping."
Without a formal start, they moved.
Kaito lunged first, his footwork quick and precise. A sharp gust of wind spiraled from his palm, slicing the air like a blade, aimed to push Hina back. But she was ready. With a subtle step to the side, she twisted her body and raised a palm — a soft, swirling breeze coiled from her fingertips, wrapping around Kaito's attack, dispersing it like mist.
Breathing steady, Hina countered with a sudden dash, closing distance. Her fists were quick and controlled — not heavy blows, but strikes meant to test balance and defense. She aimed a swift palm strike at Kaito's shoulder, and though he blocked, the movement forced him to shift his stance.
Kaito's eyes narrowed. He summoned a tighter vortex of wind, spinning low to sweep at her legs, attempting to unbalance her. Hina leapt lightly over it, landing with the grace of a leaf drifting on the breeze.
The siblings exchanged rapid strikes — hands blurred, feet flicked with precision — each move flowing with the wind's subtle guidance. Kaito's style was direct and forceful, while Hina's was fluid and elusive.
As Kaito threw a sharp jab, Hina caught his wrist, twisting gently but firmly. Using the momentum, she pivoted, sweeping a light gust around her, causing Kaito's footing to falter for a split second.
Seizing the moment, Hina stepped forward, fingertips brushing his chest in a soft but precise press of her palm— a technique taught to disrupt balance without harm. Kaito stumbled, breath caught in surprise.
He straightened quickly, eyes flashing with frustration.
Suddenly, Kaito surged upward, propelling himself just a few feet above the ground with a burst of wind from his core. Hina followed, matching his elevation with a soft gust that lifted her lightly.
They hovered, circling each other, fists ready, eyes locked.
Kaito's breath quickened as he felt the strength in Hina's every move. Frustration flared inside him. "I won't lose," he growled under his breath.
His fists began glowing faintly as he poured Vital Pulse into his muscles, enhancing his speed and power. Hina's eyes narrowed; she mirrored his move, her own body shimmering softly with Vital Pulse.
Both raised one hand, encasing it in a swirling sphere of compressed Vital Pulse no larger than a clenched fist — a concentrated weapon of raw energy force.
Without hesitation, they dashed at each other at blinding speed, the world around them blurring as their forms collided with a thunderous impact.
Kaito gritted his teeth, straining against the force — but Hina's strength was overwhelming. The sphere around her hand pulsed, breaking through Kaito's defense and slamming into his arm with bone-cracking force.
Before he could recover, her second attack surged through his chest, sending him hurtling backward like a fallen leaf caught in a storm.
He crashed into the earth with a bone-jarring impact. The ground beneath him cracked and splintered, shards of stone scattering in every direction.
Blood dripped from his split lip, tracing a crimson line down his chin as he lay sprawled on the shattered training field. His vision blurred, but his eyes remained fixed on Hina — still floating above, calm and unyielding.
Disbelief churned inside him. He had just lost to his three-year-old sister.
Before the shock could fully settle, footsteps pounded toward him. Hana rushed over, panic etched deep across her face. Dropping to her knees beside him, she pressed trembling hands against his wounds, a soft blue light flowing from her palms.
"Kaito, please… hold on!" she cried, her voice cracking with fear.
The healing Vital Pulse seeped into his body, soothing the pain and knitting torn flesh, but Kaito's mind was still reeling — caught between pain, pride, and a bitter realization he wasn't ready to accept.
For a long moment, the world seemed to hold its breath between them, the quiet hum of wind swirling softly around Hina as she watched him with steady eyes.
Kaito clenched his fists, biting back the turmoil rising inside, and whispered to himself, "How… how did she become this strong?"
Minutes after the spar, Kaito wandered far beyond the edges of the village, deep into the forest where even the wind seemed quieter.
The air was thick — damp with moss, earth, and age.
He stopped.
Before him stood a massive tree.
It towered high above the rest, its trunk so wide that three grown men linking arms wouldn't be able to wrap around it. Its bark was dark, ancient, layered like hardened armor, roots twisting deep into the ground like the claws of something that refused to ever be moved.
Kaito stared at it.
His fists clenched.
That fight…
That look in her eyes…
Hina's calm. Unshaken. Untouchable.
"...Useless," he muttered.
His fist shot forward—
THUD.
The sound didn't echo like a normal strike.
It was deep. Heavy. Like iron slamming into stone.
The tree didn't fall.
But it felt it.
A crack splintered across the bark where his knuckles landed.
Kaito's breathing grew sharper.
Again.
THUD.
This time, the impact sent a visible shudder through the trunk. Leaves trembled violently high above, shaking loose in clusters.
"Useless… useless…" he muttered, over and over, each word feeding the next blow.
His fists blurred.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Chunks of bark exploded outward. Deep fractures spread like lightning across the surface, carving into wood that had stood untouched for decades—maybe centuries.
The ground beneath his feet began to crack from the force of his strikes.
His arms tensed. Veins rose. His entire body moved with each punch, transferring everything—frustration, anger, self-doubt—into raw power.
Then—
he stepped in.
Twisted his hips.
And drove his fist forward with everything he had.
"USELESS!!"
BOOOOM.
The impact was catastrophic.
A shockwave burst from the point of contact, blasting bark and splinters outward like shrapnel. The trunk caved inward for a split second—
Then the entire tree lurched.
A deep, violent CRACK split through its core.
The roots groaned.
The earth beneath it ripped apart, soil bursting upward as thick, tangled roots were forcibly torn from the ground.
The tree didn't just fall—
It was ripped out.
With a deafening roar of snapping wood and tearing earth, the colossal trunk tilted—slow at first—
Then faster.
And faster.
Until—
CRAAAAASHHHH!!
It slammed into the forest.
The impact shook the ground like a small quake.
Its massive body crushed through multiple trees in its path, snapping them like twigs, branches exploding, leaves and debris erupting into the air in a violent storm.
Birds burst from the canopy in panic, a chaotic wave of wings filling the sky.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Broken only by Kaito's breathing.
He stood there—
chest rising and falling—
fists trembling at his sides, covered in dirt and fragments of bark.
The fallen giant lay before him, its roots exposed to the open air, earth still crumbling from where it had been violently torn free.
A tree that had stood for generations—
reduced to ruin in seconds.
And yet—
Kaito's eyes didn't change.
There was no pride in them.
No satisfaction.
Just frustration.
Still burning.
Still not enough.
Footsteps crunched softly through the snow behind him.
Kaito turned sharply, his gaze hard — only to see Toru step into view, hands tucked into his pocket, a faint smirk on his face.
"Wow," Toru said, whistling. "That's some immense strength. Must've gotten that from Hana." He chuckled.
Kaito looked away. "What do you want?"
Toru didn't answer. He just smiled at his son — that knowing smile that always seemed to read more than Kaito wanted to give away.
Kaito's brow furrowed. "What—"
A light tap landed on his shoulder. He spun around — and froze.
Toru stood there, eyes serious, calm.
Kaito glanced back to where his father had been standing — only to see the figure dissolve into thin air. A clone…? When did he
"You're letting your emotions get the best of you," Toru said evenly. "You can't even focus."
Kaito scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm not."
Toru's gaze softened. His voice lost its teasing edge. "Kaito. We need to talk."
Kaito turned his back. "Talk? About what?"
"What's going on with you lately?" Toru asked, stepping closer. "Last night, you barely touched your food. And when Hina tried to help you… you pushed her away."
At the mention of her name, Kaito's jaw tightened. "I didn't ask for her help. I don't need help from her."
Toru's voice grew quieter. "What's wrong with you?"
Silence.
Toru let out a slow breath. "…Seems you're not ready to open up. Fine."
Kaito still didn't turn around. "Is that all?"
Toru chuckled lightly. "Yeah, yeah. That's all." He gave Kaito's back a light, almost playful slap. "I'll be going now. Need to train Hina — and there's still work to do."
He walked a few paces, then stopped. Without looking back, his voice shifted — serious, but tinged with concern.
"Kaito… the way things are now, if you don't train harder, you won't be able to beat Hina anymore. And you definitely won't be able to beat Ren."
The words hit like a blade to the gut. Kaito's chest tightened, his expression sinking into shadow.
By the time he looked up, Toru was gone — swallowed by the forest.