The training room was empty — just white walls, a concrete bench, and Ryo leaning against it with arms crossed.
Kouji stood across from him, hands tucked into his sleeves, eyes downcast.
The silence between them wasn't tense. It was measured.
"You're not in trouble," Ryo said, breaking it.
"Then why does it feel like I am?" Kouji muttered.
Ryo's gaze didn't move. "Because you're smart. And being smart means knowing when something's about to shift."
Kouji exhaled slowly. "Is this about what I did? Or what I am?"
Ryo pushed off the wall.
He didn't speak right away — just walked across the floor, stopping near one of the sparring dummies, resting his hand on its wooden frame.
Then:
"Blessings come in two types. You know this already — Plus and Minus."
Kouji nodded.
"Plus is born from instinct. Growth. Skill. They respond to how we want to shape the world."
"Minus comes from pain. From fear. They push back against the world."
Ryo continued, his voice quiet.
"Your ability… isn't reacting like either. It doesn't come from fear. It doesn't spike when you're desperate. It's active even when you're calm."
Kouji's jaw tightened. "So it's a Plus?"
"In structure?" Ryo nodded. "Yes."
He stepped closer, meeting Kouji's gaze now.
"But the way it spreads... the way it takes"
He shook his head once.
"That's a Minus behavior. It pulls from the world."
Kouji looked down at his hands.
"I am not even sure what to think anymore," he muttered. "Plus in name. Minus in instinct."
Ryo gave no comfort. Just clarity.
"And until you learn how to control that line — you won't be sent back into missions."
Kouji nodded. He didn't argue. He didn't even flinch.
But when he left the room, his head was low.
The hallway was quiet.
Lights softly overhead. Far off, someone was laughing near the canteen, but here — it was just Kouji and the sound of his own steps.
He walked slowly, eyes half-focused, thought looping:
If it's not a Plus…
If it's not a Minus…
Then what the hell is it?
So when someone collided with him at the corner, he barely reacted.
"Whoa—careful," came a familiar voice.
Kouji blinked.
Yumi stood a step back, holding her clipboard awkwardly, her short green hair slightly messy as always.
She looked at him — properly looked — and her teasing grin faded.
"You okay?"
He straightened slightly. "Yeah. Just… spaced out."
"No kidding," she muttered. "You've got that 'just got dumped by your entire life' face."
Kouji gave a soft laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes.
They walked together toward the reception counter.
Yumi didn't say anything at first. Then, casually:
"Let me guess. They pulled you off duty."
He nodded.
"Training lockdown?"
"Yeah."
"Because of the warehouse thing?"
"...Yeah."
She sighed, loud and dramatic. "Ugh. Ryo always does the 'silent concern' act when he's worried someone's going to implode."
Kouji raised an eyebrow. "That's what you call it?"
"Oh, for sure. Trust me — I've seen that stare before. Same one he gave Kagami when she passed out from Kyokai backlash two years ago."
He didn't know how to respond to that.
Yumi smiled, but then her tone softened.
"...You really don't like being pulled off missions, huh?"
He paused.
"It's not that I miss the danger," he said. "It's just... without it, I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
She glanced at him — slow, thoughtful.
"Well," she said, almost too casually, "if you've suddenly got a lot of free time…"
He looked over at her.
She pretended to study her clipboard.
"You could always, I don't know… help me test out that new café down the street?"
Kouji blinked.
"I mean it's got good coffee, and I hate sitting alone."
She gave him a sideways smile. "Unless you'd rather sulk in a training room again."
He paused.
Then, finally: "Yeah. Okay."
"Good," she said, tucking her clipboard under her arm and walking off. "Pick a time. And try not to overthink it."
He didn't reply.
But for the first time in days, he wasn't thinking about his ability.