" Aoi, why are you here?"
"Is there a new patient?"
"Who's this brother? He looks so handsome!"
Lock looked down and found three tiny girls staring up at him with sparkling eyes.
If he guessed right, these were the three cheerful attendants of the Butterfly House — Naho, Kiyo, and Sumi.
Aoi Kanzaki folded her arms and sighed softly. "This is Lock. He's here for training today, so let's start with a warm-up."
She pointed toward several mats placed neatly by the wall. "We'll begin with basic limb loosening. You three — help him stretch and restore flexibility."
Lock followed her gesture and lay down as instructed.
The three little girls scurried to his side and began his "rehabilitation."
At first, it was rough. His body — unused to such intense stretching after long sedentary habits from his old life — screamed in protest. But after a few moments, his breathing steadied. His mind sharpened, and his body began to respond, adapting naturally to their rhythm.
He could feel his muscles loosening, the stiffness fading, replaced by a pleasant warmth that spread through his limbs.
[You follow the attendants' rhythm and sense the alignment of muscle and breath. Your coordination improves significantly.]
[Your body temperature stabilizes; flexibility and reaction speed increase.]
The pain gave way to comfort, and Lock almost sighed in relief.
From beside him, Aoi nodded approvingly. "Not bad. Most people can't handle even five minutes of this the first time."
Fifteen minutes later, she called, "Stop!"
The three girls collapsed to the floor, panting dramatically.
"Brother Lock, you're amazing!" Kiyo gasped, rubbing her sore arms.
"Yeah! The last guy gave up before one minute!"
"My arms feel like noodles… we surrender!"
The three fell flat, groaning in exhaustion, while Lock sat up calmly, looking refreshed rather than tired.
He couldn't help but smile. So this is what rehabilitation training feels like in the Butterfly House.
"Good," Aoi said, jotting a few notes on a clipboard. "Now we move to the next exercise — reflex training."
She led him to a low table where two teacups sat, each filled with a strange, pungent liquid.
"This is a concentration and reaction exercise," she explained. "The goal is to splash your opponent with the medicine. But you can't touch the cup while the other person's hand is on it. We'll go for twenty rounds. Whoever reacts best wins."
Aoi sat opposite him, her expression calm and confident. "I'll be your opponent. I won't go easy on you."
"No mercy!" the three attendants echoed in unison, fists raised.
Lock smirked. "Wouldn't expect any."
The match began.
At first, Aoi's timing caught him off guard — her movements sharp and deliberate, honed by years of discipline. But Lock's adaptability quickly took over. His eyes followed the tiniest shifts in her shoulders and wrists, reading her intent before she acted.
Within a few rounds, the momentum flipped.
By the tenth round, he was consistently faster.
By the fifteenth, he was untouchable.
When the final round ended, Aoi lowered her cup with a soft exhale.
"…Not bad," she admitted. "You learn fast. Too fast."
Lock only smiled humbly. "Thank you. Shall we move to the next level?"
Aoi shook her head. "No need. My reflexes aren't enough to push you further."
She straightened her posture. "Tomorrow, same time, same place. I'll find someone more suitable for you."
Lock nodded. "Understood."
That night, after a simple meal, the girls showed him to a small guest room. He slept deeply, lulled by the quiet hum of the cicadas outside.
The next morning, Lock returned to the training hall.
The same three attendants were already waiting — bright-eyed, full of energy.
"Good morning, Brother Lock!" they chimed.
"Ready for another massage?" Sumi teased.
Aoi stood by the table as referee, but this time, the seat across from Lock was occupied by someone else.
The girl sitting opposite him wore a pure white haori, a butterfly ornament in her hair, and an expression as still as moonlight.
Her skin was pale, her features delicate — as if carved from porcelain.
She sat neatly on her knees, silent and composed.
"This is Kanao Tsuyuri," Aoi said. "She'll be your new opponent today."
The three attendants immediately crowded around, whispering excitedly.
"Brother Lock, this is Kanao!"
"She's Shinobu-sama's Tsuguko — her chosen successor!"
"Be careful! If you win, maybe Kanao will notice you!"
"Or maybe we'll give you another massage as a reward!"
Lock chuckled and patted their head ". I'll do my best, then."
He turned to Kanao and offered his hand politely. "Hello. I'm Lock."
Kanao blinked once, expression unreadable. She didn't respond, only looked at him with her wide, quiet eyes.
Aoi quickly added, "Sorry — Kanao doesn't talk much. Please don't mind it."
Lock smiled softly. "I don't."
He knew her story — the silent girl who had once been too afraid to speak, who relied on a coin toss to make decisions. A heart that had been beaten silent by cruelty.
But he also knew better than to underestimate her. Beneath that calm exterior was frightening strength.
He nodded once. "Let's begin."
Aoi raised her hand to start the match—
But before she could even speak—
Splash!
Kanao's teacup was already in motion, the liquid flying toward him in a blur.
Her reflexes were sharp — no hesitation, no wasted motion.
Lock barely tilted his head aside in time as the liquid splashed past him, droplets landing across his sleeve.
A flicker of surprise lit in his eyes.
Fast… faster than Aoi by far.
And then Kanao's quiet gaze met his, calm but unwavering — the faintest hint of challenge in her expression.
Lock smiled. Interesting.
"This might actually be fun."