Three hours of silence passed. The training hall had long since been cleared — Nathaniel had reserved it for the entire day, anticipating solitude. When he finally stirred, every muscle in his body ached, his movements stiff and sluggish. The room around him was unrecognizable: walls scorched black, fragments of slag and molten debris scattered where reinforced steel once stood. The air still smelled faintly of burnt ozone and smoke.
He exhaled slowly, gaze drifting down to what was left of his clothes — tattered beyond reason, ripped in places he didn't think possible. His hand brushed over the fabric near his abdomen, feeling the faint indentation where Kagami's tail had pierced through him. He grimaced, then sighed. Max-Regeneration had sealed the damage, but the exhaustion it left behind was heavy, bone-deep. The process always burned through his stamina when pushed to its limit.
"She could've gone further," he muttered under his breath, a tired smirk tugging at his lip. "Still… at least I knocked her out."
Turning, he spotted Kagami lying motionless behind him, her body returned to its human form — still, serene, as if sleeping. For a moment, he wondered if he'd hit her too hard.
He stood over her as the overhead lamps flickered back to life, pale light cutting through the haze. His shadow stretched across the charred floor, a shifting silhouette that loomed over Kagami's still form. For a moment, his vacant white eyes seemed to search for something — not out of panic, but out of quiet calculation.
Without a word, he turned toward the shattered wall, moving aside heavy debris with slow, deliberate effort. Beneath the rubble lay a dented first-aid kit. He knelt, opening it with a soft click. Inside, the familiar green glow of recovery crystals reflected in his tired eyes — antiseptic vials, bandages, and gauze neatly packed beside them.
He exhaled through his nose, setting the kit aside as he walked back to her. Bending down, he slipped his arms under Kagami's limp body — her weight solid, the warmth of her skin radiating faintly through the soot. Carefully, he carried her to a clear stretch of floor untouched by flame or debris, lowering her onto the cool tiles.
He looked down at her, silent thoughts running behind those dimming eyes. A noble, he mused. Great. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the soreness deep in his tendons. There'd probably be hell to pay for this — striking down a ranking officer, and a Ryuzen no less, in an unsanctioned match. But then again, she had been the first to throw a hit.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Self-defense, he decided.
Nathaniel knelt beside her, brushing debris and soot off her back with slow, careful motions. The marks he'd left — faint bruising around her neck and shoulder — told him enough about the force he'd used. Damn. He reached into the first-aid kit, taking one of the green recovery crystals in hand.
As he channeled his Uratsu through it, the crystal fractured with a soft crack — shattering into glimmering emerald fragments that floated above his palm. The shards gathered into a single orb of jade light, pulsing faintly with his breath. Nathaniel guided it over Kagami's body, sweeping the sphere along her spine, her shoulder, and finally her nape.
The light seeped gently into her skin, soft green hues merging with the faint glow of her remaining aura. Steam rose faintly from the contact — not from heat, but from the renewal of energy — and Nathaniel watched as her breathing steadied, the tension in her muscles easing bit by bit.
Her eyes shot open—slitted pupils widening as they caught the glint of green light hanging above her chest. Instinct took over before reason could catch up.
A snarl tore through her throat as she lashed out, palm blazing with residual heat. The strike connected with Nathaniel's guard, a sharp crack echoing through the ruined training hall. He caught her wrist mid-swing, boots dragging across the scorched floor as the force sent him skidding backward, leaving trails of displaced ash in his wake.
"Easy—" he started, half a growl, half a breath.
Kagami staggered to her feet, her tail gone, horns retracted — but her aura still clung to her like a smoldering afterglow. The jade light shimmered faintly across her skin, following the web of half-healed welts that climbed her arm and side. She winced as her knee buckled for a moment, hand pressing against her thigh before she steadied herself.
Her breathing was sharp, uneven. Every bruise still burned, but the pain only fed her glare. "You healed me?" she spat, incredulous and furious all at once.
Nathaniel tilted his head, dusting off his hand. "Would you rather I let you choke on your pride and internal bleeding?"
The air between them trembled faintly with residual Uratsu — hers, hot and wild; his, faint but steady.
The tranquilizer hum subsided into silence, the air thick with scorched metal and drifting smoke. Both Nathaniel and Kagami stood motionless, faint pink light pulsing at their necks.
Then came the footsteps — soft, deliberate, and much too calm for the aftermath of a small-scale disaster.
Kaina Nemuri stepped through the twisted doorway, dark hair unruffled despite the heat distortion still lingering in the air. Her eyes — luminescent pink — swept over the ruined room, tracking every collapsed section of wall, every slagged support beam, every charred training dummy that used to stand there.
Her sigh was quiet, but it somehow cut through everything.
"You two do realize this was a Tier-3 facility, right?" she said, her voice calm and disarmingly gentle. "Rated for mid-range B-class augment users. Not for whatever the hell this was."
She stepped over a cracked alloy plate, boots hissing against the cooling metal. "These rooms are built to handle twelve tons of impact stress — not Uratsu detonations that blow through two meters of reinforced flooring."
Neither of them answered. Kagami's eyes flicked toward her, still hazy with residual energy; Nathaniel's jaw clenched as his body strained against the tranquilizer's effect.
Kaina's pink gaze landed on him. "Alderman," she said softly, "your energy readings jumped from baseline B to high-A for forty-eight seconds before your signature dropped off the grid. I've seen reactors behave more predictably than that."
Her tone shifted slightly, losing its calm for something colder. "And Ryuzen—dragon form transformation inside a low-tier training cell? Do you want the insurance division to start sending me personal complaints again?"
She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "The last time someone melted this much flooring, the board ordered a two-month audit on 'safety compliance.' I am not explaining to the central chair why a noble and a mid-rank recruit decided to test demolition physics unsupervised."
She crouched slightly between them, the pink glow around her eyes pulsing once. "You're both fine — bruised, drained, and lucky the suppressors didn't trigger hard containment. But I promise you…" her voice dipped to a low whisper, "…if this happens again in a low-tier cell, I'll assign you both to public maintenance for a month. No Uratsu. Just mops and molten concrete."
Straightening up, she turned toward the door. "Facility will list it as 'equipment malfunction.' The cleanup crew will patch this in six hours. Don't make me rewrite another incident log this week."
The lights flickered back to normal as the suppression field lifted, the tranquilizer glow fading from their necks. Kaina's silhouette disappeared through the doorway, leaving behind the faint scent of scorched resin and the sharp click of her boots fading down the corridor.
Nathaniel exhaled shakily, stretching his shoulders as his limbs came back under control."She's scarier than you," he muttered, voice hoarse.
Kagami groaned, rubbing her temple. "You talk too much."
Nathaniel glanced back at her over his shoulder, the faintest hint of a grin breaking through the soot and exhaustion."Maybe," he said, voice low and steady. "But I still won."
He started toward the exit, stepping over a cracked tile and brushing dust from his shoulder. The lights buzzed faintly overhead as the automated cleanup drones began their slow whirring cycle.
Just before the doors slid open, he paused — the fading light casting his silhouette across the scorched floor."Checkmate," he said quietly, not bothering to look back.
The door sealed behind him with a hydraulic hiss, leaving Kagami staring at the space where he'd stood — half in disbelief, half in reluctant acknowledgment.