Eiya looked at Izumi. "Your chakra has recovered enough, hasn't it? Then start the training. I've already told you the method."
He casually picked up a dossier beside him and began leafing through it, eyes seemingly absorbed in the pages.
"Begin," he added lightly.
Izumi took a deep breath, clearing her mind. She focused on the wild purple spark at her fingertip, trying to shape it into something stable instead of letting it flicker uncontrollably.
Time slipped by in silence.
Only the rustle of turning pages and the constant crackle of lightning filled the room.
Yet every attempt ended the same—failure.
The arc would collapse, lash out unpredictably, or scatter before taking form. Chakra drained away, and fatigue weighed heavier on her face.
After a long while, Eiya rose, stepped in front of her, and extended a finger. "Form-shaping relies on guiding, not binding."
Without hand seals, without obvious chakra buildup—
Crack!
A solid purple arc burst from his fingertip, sharp and steady. It wasn't a chaotic spark but a fine blade of lightning, precise and lethal. The energy was so tightly compressed that not a trace bled out.
Izumi stared, breath held, transfixed.
"Do you see?" Eiya's voice pulled her back. "Your control is far too crude, and you don't grasp the strain it places on your body. Lower your output by a third. Start by mimicking a needle."
"Yes, senpai!"
…
Slowly, Izumi adjusted. The wild arcs grew tame, steadier with each attempt. Though she couldn't yet shape them, the chaos had lessened.
"Thank you for your guidance!" she said, eyes burning with determination.
"Keep going," Eiya replied, already back at his documents. "This is nowhere near enough."
"Yes, senpai!"
…
She lost count of her failures. Chakra depleted, replenished, then spent again. Exhaustion pressed on her shoulders, yet her eyes only grew brighter.
Eiya interjected only briefly, each word cutting straight to the core of her mistakes. Step by step, her progress mounted.
By night's end, her fingertip spark quivered, then—finally—compressed into a slender purple needle no thicker than a hair. It lasted barely five seconds before collapsing, but it was a breakthrough.
"Senpai! I did it!" she exclaimed, nearly jumping up, joy shining in her eyes.
Eiya lifted his gaze and gave a single nod. "You've entered the gate."
"Rest now. Two hours. I'll wake you."
The excitement in her face softened. "Senpai…" her whisper was shy, almost trembling. "Th-thank you…"
She turned quickly, burying herself in the sofa cushions, curling tight, breath small.
Eiya watched briefly, then returned to his dossiers as though nothing had happened. The room sank into quiet once more.
…
Two hours later, he woke her. She blinked groggily, rubbing her eyes, then noticed fewer files stacked at his side.
"I'm ready!" she declared, slapping her cheeks to focus.
Eiya glanced at her. "You've grasped the basics of control and form, but it must be tempered in practice. Words mean nothing."
"Yes! I'll give everything I have!"
"Practice?" Eiya scoffed softly. He stood, voice cool. "Pack up. Five minutes. We're going out."
Izumi froze. "Out? To… where?"
Eiya strode for the door without looking back. "To solve a case."
Izumi's eyes went wide, hardly believing she'd heard right.
…
Dawn approached. The streets lay silent, but lights still glowed within the Police headquarters.
When Eiya pushed open the archive room door with Izumi at his side, the dozing clerk jumped in shock.
"Bring me all original crime scene reports and evidence logs for cases numbered 7-4-301 through 7-4-315," Eiya ordered flatly.
The clerk hesitated. "Th-those are sealed files… only a captain's order can—"
Recognition struck him mid-sentence. His body stiffened, sweat breaking cold on his brow, as if a predator's eyes had fixed on him. His voice died in his throat.
"Do I need to repeat myself?" Eiya asked, tone still calm.
"N-no! Right away!" The clerk scrambled off in a panic.
Rules and procedures vanished before the weight of that presence.
Izumi watched, nerves tight. Her senpai's methods were… ruthless.
Moments later, a heavy stack of old case files landed on the table.
Eiya sat, rifling through at breathtaking speed, fingers moving without pause. Izumi tried to keep up but quickly fell behind, lost in the storm of his deductions.
He compared notes across cases, jotting seemingly unrelated words and marks on scrap paper. Then, suddenly, his finger tapped a detail in one report.
He snapped the file shut.
"Come."
"Where to?" Izumi asked.
"To arrest someone."
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