Dawn. The harbor is wrapped in cold mist, the faint glow of sunrise turning the waves silver. The wooden boards creak under shifting tides. Kaito groans awake, every muscle aching from yesterday's drills. Yuki sits nearby, stretching out her arms.

Kaito: Feels like I got hit by a ship.

Yuki: That's because you almost did.

Kaito sits up, rubbing his neck. Before he can reply, the sound of light footsteps echoes across the boards. A blur cuts through the mist. A wooden staff slams into Kaito's ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. He staggers, coughing.

Gura: You're awake. Good.

She stands before him, eyes sharp, no hint of a smile. She lunges forward again. The staff whistles through the air. Kaito barely raises his arm in time, blocking with a grunt. He stumbles back, pain shooting through his side.

Gura: Lesson six. Survive when the fight chooses you.

She attacks relentlessly. Each strike heavier, faster. The staff slams toward his legs, chest, shoulders — testing his guard, breaking his rhythm. Kaito retreats step by step, his breath ragged. Yuki watches, tense, hands clenching around her knees.

Yuki (murmuring): She's not holding back at all...

Kaito's foot slips on wet planks. The staff cuts upward, smashing against his chin. His head snaps back. He falls to one knee, dazed. Gura doesn't pause. She swings down again. Kaito rolls desperately aside, the wood cracking the boards where his skull had been.

Kaito (panting): You're—insane...

Gura: Insane? No. Prepared. You think you'll get a warning when death comes for you?

She thrusts the staff forward. Kaito catches it with both hands, his muscles screaming. The impact drives him sliding across the pier. He digs his heels in, refusing to fall. Gura smirks faintly, twisting the staff and slamming it against his chest. Kaito is thrown flat on his back, gasping.

Yuki (worried): Kaito!

Kaito coughs, clutching his chest, but forces himself up. Sweat drips from his brow. He steadies his breathing, his eyes burning with stubborn fire.

Kaito: I'm not—done yet.

Gura: Good. Then stand.

He rises shakily. Gura adjusts her grip, eyes narrowing with focus. The fight continues, faster, harsher. Kaito blocks clumsily, gets struck across the shoulder, across the ribs, but each time he forces himself back on his feet. His body screams to quit, but his mind refuses. He lunges once, swinging wildly. Gura pivots effortlessly, staff cracking his side, sending him spinning to the ground.

Gura: Sloppy. Rage won't save you. Adapt.

Kaito groans but claws at the ground, dragging himself upright again. Blood stains his lip. His chest heaves. Yuki bites her lip, torn between wanting to stop it and knowing Gura won't allow interruption.

Yuki (softly): He's going to break himself...

The spar drags on through the mist. Blow after blow. Pain and defiance. Gura's strikes never slow, never soften. At last, she steps back, lowering her staff. Kaito collapses onto one knee, trembling.

Gura: You survived. Barely. Lesson learned?

Kaito (spitting blood, forcing a grin): Yeah... don't sleep near you.

Gura: Hmph. Correct enough.

She turns, gesturing for him to follow. They move further across the harbor. The sun rises higher, burning away the mist. Training continues. Gura forces Kaito through relentless drills: dodging without warning, countering feints, keeping his balance on slick boards. Each failure earns him another strike. Each small success earns only a curt nod.

Midday. Kaito lies sprawled across the planks, chest heaving. His shirt clings with sweat. Yuki kneels beside him, holding a waterskin.

Yuki: Here. Drink.

Kaito gulps greedily, water spilling down his chin. He exhales sharply, exhausted.

Kaito: I don't know how I'm still moving.

Yuki: Because you're stubborn.

Kaito: ...I'll take that as a compliment.

Gura stands nearby, watching them with arms crossed. Her expression is unreadable.

Gura: Rest's over. On your feet.

Kaito groans but pushes himself upright. His arms shake, his knees wobble, but he stands. Gura smirks faintly, almost approving. She tosses him a short wooden blade.

Gura: Lesson seven. Fight without ground beneath you.

Kaito blinks as she steps onto a line of floating crates tied together, bobbing with the waves. She gestures with her staff.

Gura: Out here, balance is life. Fall, and you're finished. Now come.

Kaito hesitates, then steps carefully onto the unstable crates. They rock beneath his weight. He sways, arms out, struggling to steady himself. Gura wastes no time. She strikes. Their weapons clash, the force nearly knocking him into the water. He yells, scrambling to keep his footing.

Kaito: You're serious—?!

Gura: Deadly serious.

She pushes him mercilessly, forcing him to defend while the crates shift and tilt. The sea sprays his face, the boards slippery underfoot. Each strike rattles his arms, each dodge risks plunging into the cold water. Yuki watches from the pier, her heart in her throat.

Yuki (muttering): Don't fall... come on, Kaito...

Kaito roars, swinging with all his strength. Gura deflects, the impact shaking the crates. They tilt dangerously. He stumbles, arms flailing, but catches his balance at the last second. Gura's eyes flash with sharp approval.

Gura: Better. You're learning.

The duel rages until Kaito finally loses footing and plunges into the sea with a splash. He resurfaces, coughing and sputtering. Gura chuckles lightly, extending her staff toward him like a hand.

Gura: Not bad. You lasted longer than I thought.

Kaito grabs the pier edge instead, hauling himself up, drenched and exhausted. He collapses onto the boards, water pooling beneath him. Yuki rushes to his side with a towel.

Yuki: Idiot... you'll catch cold.

Kaito (smirking weakly): At least I didn't drown.

Gura: Yet.

The sky burns with streaks of orange and purple. Kaito sits slumped against a crate, wrapped in Yuki's towel, his eyes half-shut from exhaustion. Gura stands at the pier's edge, her gaze fixed on the horizon. For a moment, the smirk she usually wears is gone, her expression unreadable.

Kaito: ...You've been staring out there a long time.

Gura: The sea doesn't lie. It always tells you when something's coming.

Kaito frowns, unsure if she's joking or serious. Yuki crosses her arms, stepping forward.

Yuki: You keep pushing him like this, he'll collapse before he learns anything.

Gura (glancing back, sharp): If he collapses, then he wasn't worth training in the first place.

Kaito (gritting his teeth): Hey. I'm still sitting right here.

Gura: Good. Then listen. The enemies waiting out there won't care if you're tired, won't care if you've had enough. They'll tear you apart. My job is to make sure you're ready before that happens.

Yuki: And if he breaks before that? What then?

The silence that follows is heavy. Gura looks away, back toward the horizon.

Gura: Then he dies. And we move on. That's reality.

Kaito's hands clench around the towel. He exhales slowly, then forces a weak grin.

Kaito: You don't pull any punches, do you?

Gura: No. And I never will.

Yuki kneels beside Kaito, her expression tight with worry. She doesn't look at Gura when she speaks.

Yuki: You don't have to take all of this alone. Even if she thinks you do.

Kaito: I know... but if I don't keep up, none of us make it through.

For a while, no one speaks. The waves crash against the pier, steady and unyielding. The orange light fades, and shadows deepen around them.

Gura (finally, softer than before): Rest. Tomorrow will test you harder than today.

Then she turned, her steps soft but deliberate, carrying her away from the pier until the darkness swallowed her whole. The sound of her leaving lingered longer than her presence had.

Silence again.

Yuki leaned in closer, her shoulder brushing his as though to anchor him in place. She didn't say anything at first. She just stayed, watching him fight against the weight pulling him down.

Kaito's eyes closed, his breath shuddering. He spoke at last, voice low, nearly breaking.

Kaito: Yuki... what if she's right?

Her head turned sharply toward him.

Kaito (barely above a whisper): What if I'm not enough? Back there... I fought with everything I had, and it wasn't enough. No matter how hard I push, it feels like I'm still chasing shadows. What happens when I can't keep up? What happens when I break before everyone else does?

His hands curled into fists against the towel, knuckles pale, trembling not from cold but from the weight of the thought itself.

For a heartbeat, Yuki said nothing. The words clung to the air, as heavy as the dark pressing around them. Then she reached out, laying her hand on his arm, steady and grounding.

Yuki: Then we'll face it together. Even if you doubt yourself... I won't.

The certainty in her voice cut through the quiet in a way no shout could.

Kaito let the silence wash over him again, his breathing evening out. His doubts didn't vanish—but for a moment, the sharp edges dulled under her presence.

The night fell deeper, shadows drawing the world into quiet black. Neither spoke again, but both felt the unspoken weight pressing on tomorrow.

------

The dawn came cold and colorless. Mist curled over the harbor, the air damp and heavy, muffling sound until only the lap of waves and the caw of distant gulls remained. Kaito tightened the wraps around his hands, each pull a little too sharp, a little too forced. His eyes were shadowed, not from lack of sleep alone, but from what gnawed at him long after the night had swallowed Gura's parting words.

He hadn't shaken the thought. What if I'm not enough?

Yuki stood near the edge of the pier, silent but watchful, her arms folded as if to brace herself for whatever came next. She didn't interfere, not when Kaito was tying himself together with fraying resolve, not when Gura's small frame approached across the boards with that same deliberate calm.

Gura stopped before him. She tilted her head once, sharp blue eyes narrowing as if reading the doubt etched across his face.

Gura: You're slower already.

Kaito's jaw tightened.

Kaito: I'm fine.

Gura: No. You're not. But you'll fight anyway.

She stepped back into stance, her feet sliding across the damp wood with the grace of someone who had long ago turned fighting into breathing.

Gura: Again.

Kaito lunged. His fist cut the air, sharp and fast, but Gura slipped past it like water, her heel catching him in the ribs before he could turn. The breath fled his lungs. He staggered, recovered, swung again. Faster. Desperate. Each strike more reckless than the last, fueled not by confidence but by fear of falling short.

She countered every move with merciless precision. A strike to his shoulder. A palm to his chest. A sweep of his legs that sent him crashing down.

Gura: You're thinking about losing. That's why you are.

Her words sliced deeper than her blows. He grit his teeth, forcing himself back to his feet, heat burning behind his eyes.

Kaito (through clenched teeth): If I don't push harder, I'll never—

Gura: Never what? Be enough?

He froze, the words hitting too close.

Gura didn't wait. She struck again, forcing him to defend, forcing him to move.

Gura: The moment you fight to prove yourself instead of to win—you've already lost.

Kaito blocked, but his arms trembled under the impact. The thought twisted in his chest, choking his focus. He pushed forward anyway, refusing to stop, refusing to yield, even as every exchange reminded him that his strength was fractured by doubt.

From the sidelines, Yuki's fists curled at her sides. She could see it in him—the way his drive was rotting at the edges, the way his own fear of weakness was becoming heavier than Gura's strikes.

And still, he fought.

Every strike was heavier, not with strength but with desperation. His fists lashed out as if the answer might be carved into Gura's skin if he hit hard enough. But she was never there—always just out of reach, always one step quicker, one breath calmer. Her heel clipped his ankle, her palm redirected his momentum, her elbow pressed the air from his lungs.

Kaito stumbled, his knees striking the damp boards. He caught himself on one hand, chest heaving, vision tunneling. For a heartbeat he saw Yuki at the pier's edge—eyes wide, lips parted as if she wanted to cry out but couldn't. The sound froze in her throat.

Kaito's thoughts roared louder than the sea.
Too slow. Too weak. Always behind. If I fall here, what happens when the real fight comes? What if they're right? What if I'm not enough?

He clenched his jaw and pushed upright again, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand. His arms trembled but he raised them anyway.

Kaito: Again.

Gura's gaze sharpened. For the briefest instant, something flickered in her eyes—recognition, maybe even approval. But it vanished beneath the steel of her voice.

Gura: Then prove you can still stand.

She surged forward, her small frame a blur. Kaito barely registered the movement before her fist drove toward his temple. He caught it—barely—his arm quivering with the force. Pain lanced up his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and shoved back.

He swung with his other hand, wild and raw, a strike that should've been reckless but landed close enough to graze her. A hiss of surprise left her lips before she pivoted, slamming a knee into his gut. His body folded, air rushing out, but he refused to fall.

Kaito (hoarse, defiant): I'm not... breaking.

Gura's strike halted an inch from his throat. She stood still, eyes boring into him.

Gura: Not yet.

Kaito froze, sweat dripping down his brow. His chest heaved like he had run a marathon, but he didn't collapse. Not this time.

From the pier, Yuki's breath shuddered out. Her hands had been clenched so tightly her nails cut into her palms. Relief didn't come—only a deeper worry.

He's not breaking, she thought. But he's tearing himself apart to prove it.

The mist thickened around them, swallowing sound, and still Gura did not lower her stance.

Gura: Again.

Kaito's heart thundered. His body screamed to stop, but the weight in his chest screamed louder.

And he stepped forward.

His legs were lead, every movement burning like fire in his muscles, but he forced them to obey. His fists flew again, slower than before, but backed with raw defiance. Gura intercepted each one with clean, effortless precision, her body flowing around his attacks like the tide.

She didn't let him rest. A sharp strike to his ribs. A twist that sent him off balance. A push that made him stumble dangerously close to the pier's edge before he caught himself.

Gura: You're dragging yourself. You think that's strength?

Kaito snarled, swinging wider, faster, desperate to prove her wrong. His knuckles scraped against the boards as he missed, pain shooting through his hand. He ignored it. He ignored everything except the thought clawing inside him.

Kaito: If I stop now—then I've already lost!

He lunged again. This time, Gura didn't sidestep. She met him head-on. Her forearm slammed into his chest, the impact like a hammer. He hit the ground hard, wood splintering beneath him. For a moment, he couldn't breathe.

The world tilted. His vision blurred.

Still, he clawed at the boards, trying to rise. His body screamed against him, every muscle trembling violently.

Yuki's voice finally broke through.

Yuki: Kaito—enough!

But he didn't listen. He couldn't. His hands shook as he pushed, his body folding, collapsing again before he could get upright.

Kaito: I... can still—

His arms gave out. He hit the boards face-first, gasping raggedly.

Silence followed. Only the waves filled it, slapping against the pier's supports below.

Gura stood over him, unyielding. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes like the depths of the sea—cold, watchful, testing.

Gura: That's your breaking point.

She crouched, her voice cutting but quiet.

Gura: You need to understand it. Own it. Or it will own you.

Kaito didn't respond. His chest rose and fell in uneven bursts, his fingers twitching against the soaked boards as though he might still try to rise.

Yuki rushed to his side, kneeling, pressing a hand against his shoulder.

Yuki (softly): Stop. Please. You've already proved enough.

But in Kaito's mind, the words rang hollow. Enough? No. Not yet.

The mist curled closer, swallowing the scene in gray. Yuki steadied Kaito against her shoulder, glaring up at Gura.

Yuki: You pushed him too far.

Gura's gaze didn't shift, cool and unwavering.

Gura: I pushed him to where he was always headed. You just don't like seeing it.

Yuki tightened her hold on Kaito, his weight heavy against her but not unbearable. She refused to let go.

Yuki: He's not your weapon to break.

For a moment, silence hung between them, the mist curling thicker, waves lapping like a steady drum. Then Gura crouched low, her eyes narrowing until the sharp blue was level with Yuki's.

Gura: And you think coddling him will make him stronger?

The question was quiet, but it cut.

Yuki clenched her jaw.

Yuki: I'm not coddling him. I'm protecting him from someone who treats him like a test, not a person.

A flicker of something unreadable passed over Gura's face—amusement, irritation, maybe both. She rose again, her silhouette blurring into the fog.

Gura: If he wants to fight what's coming, he doesn't get to be a person. Not anymore.

Yuki's grip on Kaito tightened, her heart pounding at the cold finality in those words.

Yuki (quietly): ...And if that's the cost, then what's left of him when it's over?

Gura didn't answer. She turned, walking back into the mist, her steps soundless on the boards until the fog swallowed her whole.

Kaito stirred faintly against Yuki, his voice hoarse, barely audible.

Kaito: ...Don't... stop me.

Yuki's throat tightened. She looked down at him, torn between fear and something deeper.

Yuki (to herself): Then don't make me watch you break.

The harbor fell silent again, as if holding its breath.