Morning with a Shadow
Waking up with a fox made of shadow and arrogance was… a lifestyle change.
Kuroha lay curled on the foot of my bed, tails glowing faintly. Every time I shifted, one tail flicked to push me back into place.
"Personal space," I muttered.
"You have plenty," he said without opening his eyes. "I just optimize it."
Ayaka knocked once and poked her head through the door. "So, how's co-habitation with your own soul going?"
"He snores," I said.
"I resonate," Kuroha corrected.
She grinned. "Perfect. Professor Vastel's expecting you two for synchronization training. Try not to vaporize the classroom again."
Synchronization 101
Celestara's training garden shimmered with mirror flowers and levitating rune targets. Professor Vastel floated at the center, clipboard in hand.
"The goal," he said, "is complete energy harmony between summoner and familiar. Breathe together, think together, and for the love of divinity, don't duel each other."
Ayaka whispered, "So you're basically meditating with your inner chaos."
"Story of my life," I said.
Attempt One
I sat cross-legged opposite Kuroha. His eyes reflected my own, twin voids with golden rings.
"Alright," I said. "We sync on three. One—two—"
He lunged.
Flames burst from both of us—black and gold colliding mid-air. The blast flattened half the garden and singed Vastel's ghost beard.
"Coordination issues," he deadpanned.
Ayaka giggled from the sidelines. "That was gorgeous! Terrifying, but gorgeous."
Kuroha smirked. "You hesitated. You think too much."
"I plan," I said.
"Planning is fear with better grammar."
Attempt Two
We tried again, this time letting the Nihility Fire flow naturally.Instead of forcing the merge, I let Kuroha's rhythm lead. The world slowed—the heartbeat of the flame matched ours. For a moment, I wasn't summoning him; I was him.
The mirror targets shimmered. I raised my hand—he raised a tail. Fire and illusion moved as one, weaving patterns across the air like a dance.
Ayaka clapped. "You did it! He's not even biting reality anymore."
"Small steps," Vastel said, sketching notes on floating parchment. "Your synchronization rate is at forty-two percent. At seventy, you'll be able to share abilities instinctively."
Kuroha licked a paw. "Then let's train faster."
Lunch Break
Ayaka brought bentos to the garden. Kuroha stared at his box suspiciously.
"It's food," I explained.
"I feed on purpose.""Then pretend it's symbolic."
He took a bite. "Tastes like ambition."
Ayaka laughed so hard she nearly dropped her chopsticks.We ate under the floating trees, sunlight refracting through glass leaves. For once, there was no curse talk, no destiny, just warmth and quiet.
Evening Exercise
Vastel dismissed us with one final task: maintain synchronization through motion.
Kuroha and I practiced under the dim sky, our steps mirrored perfectly. Every swing of my arm echoed with his tail; every flick of his claw guided my fire.
When we finished, he looked almost pleased.
"You're learning to trust me.""Learning not to argue with myself," I said.
He chuckled—a deep, rumbling sound.
"Same thing."
A Shared Dream
That night, I dreamed of standing before an endless sea of mirrors. Kuroha sat beside me, tails drifting in the windless void.
"Do you know why I exist?" he asked."Because I needed balance?""Because you believed Nihility deserved a voice."
He looked at me, eyes glowing faintly red.
"And as long as you listen, you'll never be alone in the dark again."
When I woke, the room was dim, but a single gold flame hovered by my bed—Kuroha's taillight, keeping watch.
I smiled. "Guess partnership suits us."
"Finally," he murmured from the shadows, "you're catching up."