After arriving at the house, the first thing Kai noticed was that Darius was nowhere to be found.
Even his dusty old medal, always displayed proudly on the shelf alongside trophies and photos, was gone.
Kai frowned, eyeing the empty spot where the medal was supposed to be with a twinge of worry.
He'd known Darius for years, practically since he could remember, and that medal had never been moved from its place.
"Ready to train…?" Lyra asked, finally seeming to have calmed down.
"I'd love to, but we need Darius," Kai replied, irritation creeping into his voice. "I'm going to find him. You practice the moves he taught you while I'm gone."
Lyra tilted her head curiously, her chocolate-brown eyes still tinged with a reddish hue from crying, making Kai feel oddly exposed for a moment.
"You know where he is?" she asked.
Kai shrugged dismissively, letting out a sigh.
"Same place as always, I hope," he said, glancing at a photo of his father, Kael.
There was only one reason Darius—the stubborn, grumpy old man who wouldn't let Kai rearrange so much as a throw pillow—would take his precious medal.
And Kai didn't like that reason one bit.
'Guess it's about time I paid him a visit anyway,' Kai thought, before saying goodbye to Lyra and heading to the cemetery.
It wasn't far, just up the hill, a small place surrounded by greenery. But despite having gone there more than once to drag a drunken Darius back home, Kai had never visited his father's grave.
"Not yet," he murmured, as he always did.
He wasn't ready to face his father's tombstone. Not until he'd proven himself worthy.
Just being there, though, reminded Kai of how far he still had to go, how much he needed to improve.
'Soon, I'll be ready. Lyra's my shot,' he tried to convince himself, but deep down, there was something else.
Shame.
Regret.
Resentment.
Kai had a tangle of feelings about his father, his life, and how it all ended.
But one thing he couldn't deny: his father was strong, almost invincible. Far stronger than Kai could ever hope to be.
Or so he thought.
When he reached the cemetery's edge, he paused for a few seconds, steeling himself before stepping inside.
As he walked through, his heart tightened. Each step filled him with more anxiety until, at last, he found what he was looking for.
Darius was sitting in front of his father's grave, a bottle of liquor in one hand and his old medal in the other.
"Thought you wouldn't show, old man. We've got work to do," Kai said, keeping his distance from the grave.
Darius didn't turn to look at him. Instead, he took another swig from the bottle of rum.
"Show some respect, kid. The grown-ups are talking," Darius replied, his voice flat.
Kai let out a heavy sigh. He was used to this kind of nonsense—Darius always got like this when something dragged him back to the past.
"Fine, I'll let you two chat. I'll wait outside," Kai said, turning to leave, eager to get out of that place.
But before he could walk away, Darius stopped him.
"Still not ready to say hi to your old man? I know you miss him as much as I do, Kai."
"We've been over this… I'll do it when I'm ready," Kai replied, not turning back.
He heard Darius stand, the crunch of dry leaves underfoot giving away his approach.
Darius placed a comforting hand on Kai's shoulder, trying to ease his tension.
"I don't get you, kid… You're already strong. What more do you need to figure that out?"
'The right fight,' Kai thought to himself, but he didn't dare say it out loud.
Even he thought it sounded childish, pointless. But he'd made a promise to his father before he died: 'I'll be as strong as you. I'll make you proud.'
"I need Lyra," Kai said finally, after a long silence.
Darius's brow furrowed, his grip on Kai's shoulder tightening until it started to hurt.
"That feral? You need her?" Darius asked, his voice bitter, the stench of alcohol on his breath making Kai dizzy.
"Her talent, to be precise," Kai tried to explain, turning to meet Darius's eyes.
"I need her talent to shine. I need her to reach the top, and when she does, I'll crush her with everything I've got," he said, dead serious.
Darius let out a dry, humorless laugh, swaying slightly from the booze.
"That's your big plan? Your father wouldn't approve!" he said, but his tone grew heavier, his brow creasing. "Though I guess it makes sense… after what happened."
He didn't need to say what he meant. Kai remembered that day so vividly it might as well have been burned into his eyes.
His father, the invincible man, world MMA champion, war veteran… killed by a feral.
"The day I do what he couldn't, that's when I'll be able to face him without shame," Kai continued, pulling away from Darius.
"You're out of your mind… That feral trusts you. Hell, even I thought you two were friends," Darius snapped.
Kai hesitated for a moment, memories of his time with Lyra flashing through his mind.
He couldn't deny it—the concern, the care, the hopes he had for Lyra were real.
But his promise to his father came first.
Instead of admitting that, he went on the defensive, snapping back at Darius.
"Like you care. If it were up to you, every feral would be dead," Kai shot back, recalling the countless drunken rants Darius had spewed about them.
He expected a laugh, a snarky comeback, something to confirm his words. But instead, he saw something new: a look of raw pain in Darius's eyes.
"Darius…?" Kai murmured, caught off guard by Darius's silence and the way he stared at his medal, not with pride, but with shame.
After a sigh, Darius met Kai's gaze again.
"The war's been over for years… and there's hardly any of us left who fought in it," he said, his eyes shadowed. "But I kept fighting… for what? Why?"
Darius shuffled back to Kael's grave, kneeling to bury his medal in the dirt beside his old friend.
"I hated them my whole life for what they did, Kai. But I never realized—not all of them fought in the war. That girl…" he continued, standing up. "She's nothing like the ferals I remember."
"You're doing the same thing… You're obsessed. You've already beaten Lyra plenty of times in sparring. Isn't that enough?" Darius asked, his gaze making Kai feel like the worst person alive.
"It's not… She's untrained," Kai tried to defend himself.
"So what? She's still a feral," Darius shot back.
Kai didn't want to admit the truth—that he wouldn't be satisfied until he could prove himself in an all-out fight, giving everything and coming out on top.
A half-hearted fight wasn't enough. His pride wouldn't allow it.
"Just come back home when you're done… Lyra's got a fight to prep for," Kai said finally, turning to leave with hurried steps.
He was desperate to escape the cemetery and the flood of bad memories it brought.
As he walked away, he heard Darius's voice calling after him.
"She didn't kill my comrades, Kai! And she didn't kill your father either! I get that now…"
But Kai didn't look back, frustration and guilt gnawing at him.