The early mornings started the same now.
A sharp rap at the door. Ryusei Tachibana's deep voice barking for Kazunai to get moving. Sweat already dripping before breakfast. Bruised knuckles, sore ribs, burning muscles. Every day — for three months — Kaz pushed himself past his limits.
Ryusei taught with the patience of a blacksmith shaping molten iron.
Muay Thai — the "Art of Eight Limbs" — was brutal and efficient. No fancy moves, no wasted effort.
"Elbows like daggers," Ryusei said once, demonstrating a strike that cracked the heavy bag off its chain.
"Your knees are spears. Your fists are hammers. Your legs are baseball bats."
Kaz absorbed every lesson, every correction, every punch thrown his way.
At first, Ryusei barely spoke outside of instruction, keeping things strictly professional.
But slowly, as the weeks dragged into months, a bond began to form — something forged not by words, but by blood, bruises, and trust.
One night after a particularly vicious sparring session, Ryusei tossed Kaz a towel and slumped down on the bench.
"You got heart, kid," he said between breaths. "Reminds me of... back then."
Kaz tilted his head, sensing there was more.
Ryusei stared into the gym's ceiling lights, expression unreadable. His hand flexed, as if debating something.
"You ever hear about the kids after Morningstar? "Kaz shook his head, confused. He had heard of the explosions, of course — it was the foundation of their world — but this?
"Not everyone got powers the natural way, and not everyone's natural power was deemed useful" Ryusei muttered. "Some of us... we were taken, experimented on."
Kaz froze.
Ryusei gave a hollow chuckle. "I was ten when they dragged me off. Ran experiments. Broke us down. Built us back up. I met your old man there. Seamus and Sean Yazumèi... we survived it together."
Kaz's stomach twisted. His father? His uncle? Part of some twisted government experiments? Why had he never heard of this?
"They turned us into weapons," Ryusei said quietly. "Some of us rebelled. Some joined them. Seamus..." He hesitated. "He chose to fight for freedom. That's why I respect him, what I don't respect is the path he choose in live."
There was a long silence.
"And Amy, is that why our powers seem so unique?" Kaz asked, his voice low.
Ryusei's hard features softened just slightly.
"Amy's mother, Naomi, she's got the gift to heal and create psionic barriers," he said. "Mix that with my fire affinity... and you get that stubborn, pink-flaming daughter of mine."
Kaz couldn't help but smile slightly.
"She gets it from you," he said.
Ryusei barked a laugh. "Hell yeah, she does."
Over the three months, Ryusei beat patience into Kaz's bones.
When Kaz's flames flared wild, Ryusei made him meditate for hours, fists clenched in bowls of freezing water.
When Kaz lost his temper, Ryusei forced him to run drills till he collapsed.
Control. Precision. Endurance.
Kaz learned to command his black flames — to bend them, sculpt them — not let them lash out unchecked.
He grew faster. Sharper. Stronger.
Not just physically. Mentally. Spiritually.
Kazunai Yazumèi wasn't a wild spark anymore. He was becoming a blaze with purpose. And then came the mission.
It was a humid night, clouds covering the crescent moon.
Kaz and Ryusei stood atop a grimy rooftop overlooking a worn-down warehouse — one of Grigorovich's known hideouts.
Their target?
"Iron Jaw" Mike — one of Alexandrov's lieutenants, known for his brutality and reinforced steel jaw implants.
Ryusei adjusted his tactical gloves.
"No holding back, kid," he said grimly. "This isn't a spar. It's war."
Kaz just nodded, black flames dancing along his knuckles.
The two dropped into the warehouse like silent specters.
Immediately, alarms blared. Goons poured out from every shadow, armed with bats, knives, guns, powers crackling.
Ryusei moved like a demon.
One man lunged — Ryusei snapped his shin with a single, savage Muay Thai kick.
Another raised a pistol — Ryusei was on him, elbow smashing into his temple, dropping him cold.
Kaz grinned fiercely, his own body igniting with energy.
He blasted through a wall of thugs, black fire coating his arms as he moved with vicious grace — kicks like pistons, punches like sledgehammers.
A lightning-user tried to fry him from behind — Kaz spun, grabbing the man's wrist mid-attack, and crushed it with a brutal arm-lock.
The fight was pure chaos.
Kaz and Ryusei moved like a hurricane, two storms colliding into the criminal underworld's ranks.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the last man fell with a grunt.
At the center of the room, chained to a steel chair, sat Iron Jaw Mike — bloodied but grinning.
"Yazumèi's runt and the old mutt," Mike rasped through metal teeth. "Bout time."
Kaz cracked his knuckles, stepping closer.
"You're gonna tell us everything," he said, voice low and dangerous.
Mike spat blood at his feet. Ryusei's eyes gleamed. Kaz smiled darkly.
Later, after Mike had been "properly encouraged" to spill intel and was hauled off to military custody, Ryusei clapped Kaz on the back.
"You're shaping up good, kid," he said. "Real good."
Kaz felt pride warm his chest.
"Thanks, Ryusei."
The older man shook his head, smirking.
"Don't thank me yet. You're not done growing."
That evening, Ryusei made good on an earlier promise.
He invited Kaz to dinner at the Tachibana household.
Kaz felt a rare nervousness as he walked up to Amy's front door, still wearing his pressed military uniform. Ryusei, at his side, looked every bit the decorated soldier — stern, disciplined.
Amy answered the door — and her jaw almost hit the floor.
"Kaz? Dad?!" she gawked, staring between the two.
Kaz rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Hey... surprise?"
Ryusei smirked slightly, brushing past her into the house.
"You got dishes set out, or what, squirt?"
Amy blinked. Then shook her head furiously.
"Waitwaitwait— You two... get along now?"
Kaz just laughed.
"Something like that." Amy's mom, Naomi, peered out from the kitchen, smiling warmly.
"Well, come on then," she said. "Food's hot."
As they sat around the table, the scent of grilled fish, rice, and savory soups filling the air, Kaz felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Family.
Not by blood.
By bond.
And somewhere deep inside, a flicker of hope lit up from the ashes.