The morning sun broke gently over Hoshimori, painting the streets in gold and silver. The city had repaired most of the damage from Karasu-no-Oni's attack, but the air still carried a tense quiet. Villagers whispered about the boy who wielded the Starblade, and children peeked from alleyways, eyes wide with awe.
Itsuki sat cross-legged on the hill outside the city, his Starblade hovering faintly above the ground, shimmering with residual light from the previous night. Beside him, Tsukihime floated gracefully, her silver hair flowing like liquid moonlight in the breeze.
"Today begins your true training," she said, her voice calm but commanding. "Last night, you fought bravely, but bravery alone will not save anyone. Power without control is as dangerous as darkness itself."
Itsuki nodded, tightening his grip on the blade. "I understand. I don't want to fail again."
She raised her hands, and the pendant around her neck glowed softly, casting silvery threads into the air. They wove around Itsuki, brushing against his skin like whispered words.
"Focus on the flow of starlight," she instructed. "Feel it in your core. Let it guide your movements. Your Starblade is not merely a weapon—it is an extension of your will, your heart, and your intent. Only then will your strikes hold true power."
Itsuki took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He felt the light stir within him, pulsing like a heartbeat. It was warm, comforting, and yet demanding—demanding control, precision, and clarity of purpose.
Tsukihime nodded approvingly. "Good. Now, channel it."
---
Hours passed. Itsuki swung, blocked, parried, and learned to move with the Starblade as if it were part of his body. The silver crescent on his hand pulsed with every strike, guiding him, correcting him, pushing him to flow with the light rather than force it.
Yukari watched from the sidelines, her bow resting across her knees. She occasionally offered sharp advice: "Don't waste energy on wide swings! Your arcs need to slice cleanly. Your strikes must pierce intent, not just flesh."
"Yeah, yeah," Itsuki muttered, panting. But he followed her instructions carefully, trying to balance speed and precision.
By late afternoon, sweat poured down his face. His arms burned, his legs ached, and yet something deep inside hummed with satisfaction. The Starblade seemed to respond more readily now, a living extension of his resolve rather than a tool he had to force into motion.
---
As evening approached, Tsukihime guided him toward the ruins of the shrine on the hill. The silver moonlight bathed the stones in a serene glow.
"This next lesson is critical," she said softly. "It is not enough to fight shadows. You must learn to harmonize your light with mine. Only then can we contain the void if Karasu-no-Oni—or greater enemies—strike again."
Itsuki frowned. "Harmonize? You mean… fight together?"
She shook her head gently. "Not fight together. Merge intent. Synchronize your light. Let me amplify your strikes while I use the pendant to contain the void. It is a delicate balance, requiring absolute trust."
Itsuki swallowed, feeling the weight of her words. He glanced at her silver eyes, reflecting the stars above, and realized just how much depended on him—not only his strength, but his judgment, his will, and his courage.
---
The training began under the soft glow of moonlight. Itsuki and Tsukihime moved in tandem. Each strike of his blade resonated with her pendant, forming arcs of light that danced like constellations. Shadows summoned by illusions appeared around them, forcing him to react, adapt, and trust not only his instincts but her guidance.
The first few attempts failed. The light clashed instead of merging. Sparks fizzled out, leaving them both off balance.
Tsukihime's gaze remained calm. "Patience. Focus not on defeating the shadows, but on aligning your intent with mine. Feel my rhythm… let it become part of you."
Itsuki closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Slowly, he adjusted, his strikes flowing seamlessly with her movements. Light and moon-thread intertwined, pushing back the illusions effortlessly.
Yukari, watching silently, let out a rare whistle. "Not bad, Starbearer. Keep this up, and you'll make Karasu-no-Oni regret ever showing his face."
By the end of the night, Itsuki had mastered several new techniques:
Moonlit Crescent: A wide arc that cuts through multiple shadows at once.
Starlight Bind: A focused beam that immobilizes shadows temporarily, allowing Tsukihime's pendant to contain them.
Radiant Surge: A burst of energy from the blade itself, amplifying the wielder's intent and courage.
Exhausted but elated, Itsuki collapsed to the ground. Tsukihime knelt beside him, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.
"You have grown," she said softly, almost smiling. "Not only as a Starbearer, but as someone who can carry the hope of those who cannot fight."
Itsuki looked up at her, chest heaving, eyes wide. "I… I'll keep getting stronger. I have to. For everyone."
"Good," Tsukihime whispered, her gaze lifting to the moon. "Because darkness never rests, and neither can we."
Far beyond the city, hidden in shadows, a pair of crimson eyes glinted in the night. Someone—or something—had been watching their training closely. And it whispered into the void:
> "The Starbearer awakens. It is time to strike… and the world will tremble."