Outside, the sun curtain was closing.
Mystic glowed like a constellation as I led her into the courtyard—Lufei trotting close beside her and Maxius circling overhead.
"She wants to move," I said. "To play ," I added.
"Then let's take her for a spin!" my father grinned.
Uncle Hanji appeared behind me. "Niece of mine, would you do the honor of carrying your dear uncle into the sky while chasing the airborne thundercloud?"
Mystic dipped low, tail brushing Hanji's head. He yelped.
"She doesn't seem to like me," he pouted. "Which cannot be true."
Mystic's tail swatted him again.
Lufei added a gleeful little leap and nudged Hanji's knee.
Maxius divebombed his hair.
"I'm trying to be emotionally vulnerable here!"
—
I hopped on Mystic's back. My father followed with surprising grace. Hanji scrambled after us.
Lufei summoned a small platform of leaf-light and leapt up beside me. Maxius perched proudly on Mystic's head like he was claiming ownership.
"Flight test?" my father asked.
"Flight test," I said.
And off we went.
—
We soared around the courtyard, ducking plum trees and clotheslines.
Lufei sparkled like a flying lantern. Maxius divebombed laundry. Mystic clipped the koi fountain.
Twice.
A mail courier saw us, screamed, and ran. Hanji waved.
"She's majestic!" he shouted.
Then—trouble.
Mystic trembled midair. Her qi surged.
"Wait—why is she glowing?" I asked.
Hanji clutched me. "Do whales molt?"
Then—WHOMP. The ceiling screamed. Mystic had outgrown domestic life.
In a flash, Mystic expanded—inside the house. Her body wedged into the hallway. A beam cracked. Maxius squawked and bolted. Lufei flattened her ears.
My father leapt off Mystic like a spooked teenager. "We can reverse! Mystic, back up!"
Mystic wiggled.
Nothing happened.
And that's when the front door opened.
My mother stood frozen.
Mystic. Wall. Debris. Her family inside a stuck whale.
"I told you not to ride it inside."
"I was testing airflow!" my father said.
"She's stuck in the ceiling!!"
Hanji raised a hand. "In my defense—"
"No. No defense. I need a spatial scroll kit. And a chisel."
Mystic let out a guilty hum.
Lufei nosed her supportively.
Maxius brought over a broom like he was trying to help.
I patted Mystic. "You're perfect."
My mother opened the front door again.
"Does anyone have a wall re-expansion charm and a giant rope pulley?!"
—
Punishment was swift.
The next morning, Ka Sanni conducted her own form of judgment.
"You three owe me a roof. And sanity. And a new broom."
She handed my father a list of repair materials, handed me a ledger of neighborhood damage claims, and handed Hanji a mop.
"You'll each submit a written reflection on why riding a six-foot soul whale indoors is not a good decision."
"But how formal—?" I started.
"Double-spaced. With citations."
She turned on her heel and vanished into the courtyard with the grace of someone who had absolutely considered adopting a whale herself—and decided against it.
Maybe she'd had a soul beast once. Maybe not. She'd never said.
All she'd ever offered was:
"Some of us don't get to choose. Some of us aren't chosen. Some of us just keep doing the work."
I could respect that.
And maybe, deep down, I understood it too.
—
That night, she came to see me.
I sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by packing cubes and tangled charger cords, trying to figure out how to shove three portable qi converters, a fortified ration pack, and an emotional support kettle into one duffel.
That's when the soft knock came.
Not a knock, really. More like a tap-tap on the glowpad.
"Yumei?" my mom's voice, quieter than usual.
"It's open," I called, blinking in surprise.
The door whispered aside.
Ka Sanni stepped in, wearing her usual hybrid of tired war hero and cool apocalypse aunt—black jacket over a reinforced-knit tee, cargo joggers with burnproof stitching, and boots that had definitely seen fire. Her hair was down. That was rare.
She looked around. Lufei stirred but didn't rise. Maxius mumbled something in his sleep. Mystic's glow filtered through the window like a second moon.
Then she looked at me.
"You're really going," she said.
"I'm not escaping orbit. Just school."
She didn't smile, but her eyes did. A little.
She lowered herself to sit beside me on the floor, one boot crossed under her.
"I know we're not the… sit down and pour our feelings into tea kind of family," she said.
"We could be," I offered. "If the tea was cursed and full of qi-infused chili."
That earned a real, if brief, laugh.
She reached into her jacket and pulled out a small, flat case.
"Oni 9X," she said, handing it over. "Military-grade. Signal lock encryption. Personal line only connects to me, your dad, and unfortunately Hanji."
"I assume he bribed you."
"He brought me a taxidermied imp and a legal headache. I figured it was safer to give in."
I opened the case.
The Oni phone was sleek, deep obsidian with a shimmer of embedded qi circuits. The side sensor glowed faintly when I touched it—bonding to me already. A small hum echoed through my palm. New. Just mine.
I swallowed. "Thanks."
She nodded. "No excuses not to call."
Then—she reached into a hidden jacket pocket and pulled out something larger. A thin roll of synth-scroll wrapped in a tieband. She placed it gently on the floor between us.
"I was going to wait," she said. "But this feels like the right time."
I blinked. "What is it?"
"A deed. For your house."
I stared at her. "My what now."
"It's not a mansion. More of a… survival dome." Her voice dropped like it was something she'd been carrying for a while. "Your dad and I bought it years ago. Thought we might move once things got quieter. But then you came along. And everything got louder in the best ways."
I slowly unrolled the deed. A 3D image shimmered up in the air above it.
A large three-room dome house. One acre of open land. Edge of the city's safe zone—within commute range to the academy, but isolated enough for Mystic to stretch her fins.
The roof was half gone. One wall bore long, clawed scorch marks. The barn was… let's call it theoretical.
"It got hit by a berserk beast three years ago," she said. "No one was living there at the time. We got it cheap."
I stared at it. "This is amazing."
"It'll need work. But it's yours. No noise restrictions, no curious neighbors. Just space to grow. You and your monsters."
I felt Mystic stir slightly through the window, like she'd heard her name whispered on the wind.
"You think I can keep up with all this?"
Ka Sanni smiled faintly. Not sarcastic. Not hard. Just proud.
"I think you're going to make it your own. Not just survive it. Not just win. I want you to have the room to figure out who you are when you're not training or fighting or trying to prove something."
The silence that followed was warm.
She reached out, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear like she hadn't done in years.
"I want you to thrive, Yumei. Not just succeed."
I nodded, throat tight. "I'll call."
"You better."
She stood slowly, gave me one last long look, then nodded toward the scroll and phone.
"Build something. Even if it starts out broken."
Then she stepped out.
—
Morning.
Bags packed. Portal ready.
Mystic hovered like a celestial barge. Lufei was harnessed beside her in a custom nest-rig. Maxius sat on my shoulder like a shoulder boss.
"You packed the scrolls, right?" my mother called.
"Don't let her eat lightning!" my dad added.
"My little thunder princess is leaving!" Hanji sobbed into a handkerchief.
I ripped the scroll. "City R federation beast Registry center." I spoke of my Destination.
A rip of light opened the portal.
I whispered into Mystic's fin: "We'll fly inside again. Just—when we get home to our new house but we need to teach you size adjusting"
Mystic purred.
Wind picked up.
We soared upward, portal sparkling.
I waved back.
My mother saluted. My father fist-pumped.
Hanji blew his nose so hard the neighbor's cat jumped.
And then—fwump.
We were gone.
Toward destiny.
And hopefully… ceilings tall enough for a huge whale.
⸻