Raizen pushed himself off the floor with one hand.
"One hundred ninety-seven... one hundred ninety-eight... one hundred ninety-nine... two hundred!"
His arm shook. He switched hands without complaining and kept going.
Hikari padded over, hair sleep-messed, eyes still half-closed. She crouched, watched two more reps, then set a palm lightly on his shoulder.
"I see you're improving, but..." She hesitated a few seconds. "Actually, no. I'm not even going to say anything. You're going to do them anyway."
"Not yet," he puffed, grinning sideways. "I still need to do more."
"Yep. Same old declaration."
The kettle hissed gently, filling the room with a sweet fragrance. Takeshi still wasn't back.
Raizen iced Hikari's ankle and wrapped it clean, then sat down, staring at the clock as if it could speed up time. Today Kori pushed the speed up to fifty, which was more than anything he thought he was ever going to do. After around six tries, though…
Hikari watched him work, a small smile playing at her lips. "You looked like you were fighting for your life on that third sequence."
"I was fighting for my life." Raizen tied off the wrap and sat back. "That double-strike from the top and bottom poles? I thought I was dead."
"You spun sideways and somehow parried both." She tilted her head, hair falling across her shoulder. "It was actually kind of impressive."
"Kind of?"
"Very, excuse me" she corrected, smile widening. "Very impressive. For someone who used to get hit by every single rod."
Raizen flopped onto the thin mattress on his back, groaning dramatically. "You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"
"Never." She lay beside him hand over her forehead, completely relaxed. "Remember when you asked Kori if the rods could go slower?"
"That was strategic questioning-"
"She laughed for five minutes."
"She laughed for two minutes," Raizen protested, grinning despite himself. "And I was asking for you."
"Liar." Hikari poked his shoulder. "You were sweating so much Mina thought you were sick."
"Oh, come onn! I was just… Concentrating. It's not that deep."
"You were dying."
Raizen turned his head to look at her. She was smiling - really smiling, not the small careful ones she gave Obi or Takeshi. Her whole face lit up different when it was just the two of them. Softer. More her.
"You're mean when we're alone," he said.
"I'm honest when we're alone." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Mm-hmm." She leaned back on her hands. "When Obi's here, I have to be nice because he'll just turn everything into a joke. When Takeshi's here, I have to be quiet because..." She trailed off, thinking. "Because he's Takeshi. You don't just... talk around him."
"But with me?"
"With you, I can say you looked like a drunk Graver trying to dodge that last combo." Her smile turned mischievous. "And you can't do anything about it."
Raizen sat up, mock-offended. "A drunk Graver? Come on."
"A very drunk Graver."
"That's it-" He reached for the only pillow they had to take turns using at night, but she was faster, snatching it and holding it hostage.
"Don't." Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm injured. Kori said so!"
"You got grazed."
"Severely grazed."
"Hikari-"
"Critically grazed. I might never walk again!"
They stared at each other for three seconds. Raizen frowning, mildly annoyed that he couldn't pay Hikari back for all of her teasing, Hikari still smiling, pillow clutched to her chest.
She was opening up more lately, especially when it was just the two of them. She felt safe around him, and he'd discovered she wasn't nearly as shy as he'd first thought.
She set the pillow down between them, fingers playing with the frayed edge. "Do you think we're ready? For tonight?"
The lightness shifted. Not gone, but... overshadowed. She was nervous as well.
"Well… What can I say?" Raizen said. "Zero hits at fifty speed. That's... that's almost Graver-level, she said. And since most criminals around here aren't as good as Gravers-"
"But Gravers have weapons."
"We'll have weapons soon." He tried to sound confident. "After tonight, remember?"
Hikari nodded slowly, then looked up at him. "Are you scared?"
Raizen wanted to say no. Wanted to be brave, confident, ready. But she'd know if he lied. She always did.
"Mhhm," he admitted. "A little."
"Me too." She shifted closer, just slightly.
They sat in comfortable silence, the kettle still hissing softly. Outside, the Underworks hummed with distant voices and mechanical clanking. Inside, it was just the two of them and the knowledge that in a few hours, everything would change.
"Raizen?" Hikari's voice was quieter now.
"Yeah?"
"When we get the Luminite... when we go to the Academy..." She hesitated. "Promise we'll stick together?"
"Always," he said immediately. "You, me, and Obi. The loud smith, the ghost, and the-"
"Drunk Graver?"
"I was going to say "great, fierce warrior" but sure, drunk Graver works." He scratched his head. "Actually, it should be drunk Vanguard-"
She laughed again, soft and warm, and knocked her shoulder against his. "Okay. As long as you promise."
"I promise."
Before either of them could say more, the door swung open.
Obi leaned into the frame without knocking, hair barely tamed, winner's token clinking on his belt, brass knuckles still on his hands like he never wanted to take them off.
"So!" He grinned wide and loud. "Are we going, or are you two having a moment?"
Hikari's expression shifted instantly - smile smaller, posture straighter, hands folded in her lap. The openness vanished like a door closing.
"We're ready" she said quietly.
Raizen noticed the change, felt something twist in his chest. But he stood, offered Hikari his hand, and pulled her up, careful so she stepped right with her grazed leg.
"Let's go steal some Luminite" he said.
Obi's grin widened. "Now that's the spirit!"
✦ ✦ ✦
They took the back lanes, moving quietly. Hikari counted corners, Obi's belt clinked with every step, Raizen kept his eyes forward.
The route to The Maw wasn't direct - you didn't walk main streets when you were planning a theft.
They turned down a narrow alley between two buildings, walls close enough to touch both sides. The lamplight ahead was dim, flickering. The passage stretched longer than it should have.
Raizen slowed.
At the far end, barely visible in the weak light and through a dusty cloud, a figure stood perfectly still.
Black suit. Elegant, tailored, silver thread running along the seams catching what little light there was. The fabric looked expensive - wrong for the Underworks, wrong for anywhere down here.
And the mask.
White. Smooth. Featureless except for two empty eyes and a smile - theatrical, frozen, inhuman. The kind of mask you'd see in old plays about tragedy and fate.
But that wasn't what made Raizen's breath catch.
Three knives floated around the figure.
Not held. Not thrown. Floating.
They rotated slowly in the air, orbital, each one glowing with a light Raizen had never seen before. Purple. Bright, clean and pure, pulsing from gems at their cores. Not the dull colors of cheap Graver weapons, not the faded red, green, blue or yellow he'd glimpsed in the Underworks.
This was something else entirely.
The figure didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there, mask tilted slightly, as if observing them with interest that couldn't be read.
Hikari's hand went to Raizen's sleeve instinctively. She'd stopped breathing. Obi's grin had vanished completely.
For three seconds, nobody moved. The world felt frozen, like time itself was watching.
Then Raizen blinked.
And the figure was gone.
Not walking away. Not retreating into shadow. Completelygone. Like it had never been there at all. The alley stood empty, lamplight flickering over bare stone.
Silence.
"Did you-" Raizen started.
"Let's keep moving" Obi interrupted, voice tight.
They walked a bit faster. Nobody looked back. Nobody spoke.
Raizen's mind raced. Had he imagined it? Was his brain playing tricks because of nerves, because of what they were about to do? The mask, the suit, the floating knives - it felt like something straight from a weird nightmare.
But Obi's usual chatter had died completely. And with all his years in the Underworks… That could only mean…
They'd all seen it.
They just didn't want to say it out loud.
They emerged from the alley into a slightly wider street. Movement ahead – a few people scattering, voices raised.
Two Wardens stood near a tall building's corner, armor polished, insignias gleaming in the yellow-ish lantern light. One was barking orders at the crowd to stay back. The other was crouched near something on the ground, partially covered by a tarp.
Raizen's stomach dropped.
A body. Blood pooling dark beneath the tarp's edge.
"Move along!" the standing Warden shouted. "Nothing to see! Keep moving!"
But people were looking. Whispering. A murder in the Underworks wasn't unusual, but something about this felt different. Wrong.
The crouched Warden stood, shaking his head. "Clean, straight cuts. Professional."
Raizen thought of the floating knives. The figure in the mask. The purple glow. He said nothing.
The standing Warden's eyes swept the crowd and landed on them. "You three. Stop."
They stopped.
The Warden walked over, hand resting on his baton. "Where are you coming from?"
"Heading to work," Obi said, smile returning but thinner than usual. "Late shift at-"
"I didn't ask where you're going. I asked where you came from."
"Home," Hikari said quietly. "Across the district."
The Warden's eyes narrowed. "Through the back alleys?"
"Faster route" Raizen said.
"Faster, huh." The Warden looked them over - Obi's token, Raizen's bandaged hands, Hikari's too-clean appearance. "You see anyone suspicious? Hear anything?"
Raizen's mind flashed to the figure. The mask. The knives.
"Nope" he said. "Nothing."
The Warden studied them for a long moment. Then he glanced at his partner and whispered "Probably nothing. Kids trying to avoid the main streets."
"We're investigating a murder," the other Warden said, standing. "Can't be too careful."
The first Warden's hand stayed on his baton. "You three can go. But I'll need to see papers first."
Raizen's chest tightened. They didn't have papers.
Obi stepped forward, hand going to his belt. The Warden's grip on the baton tightened.
"Easy, easy!" Obi raised his other hand. "Just getting-" He pulled out a heavy coin purse. "Look, we're late for work. Boss is going to kill us. Maybe we could... speed this up?"
The Warden's eyes flicked to the purse. "That's a bribe."
"That's a polite tip" Obi corrected smoothly. "For your excellent service. Keeping the Underworks safe and all."
The second Warden walked over. Both of them looked at the purse.
"How much?" the first one asked.
Obi opened it, showing the glint of gold and silver. "Should be Enough to make this go away. Am I right, gentlemen?"
The Wardens exchanged glances. Then the first one held out his hand. Obi dropped the purse into it with a heavy thunk.
The Warden weighed it, nodded, and pocketed it. "Papers are in order. Move along."
They moved - around the corner, down another street, putting distance between themselves and the murder scene.
Half a block later, Obi started laughing.
"What?" Raizen hissed.
"The bag" Obi wheezed, grinning like a madman. "The bottom half - actually, most of it - was filled with rusty cogs."
Hikari's eyes went wide. "You didn't."
"I absolutely did." Obi's grin widened. "They just paid me to take garbage off my hands. HAH, suckers."
Despite everything - the figure, the mask, the murder, the Wardens - Raizen felt himself smile.
"You're insane."
"Yeah, maybe you're right. But I love being insane." Obi tapped his belt where a smaller, flatter purse hung hidden. "Still got three-quarters of my winnings, that's the important stuff."
They kept walking, faster now, tension easing slightly.
But Raizen couldn't shake the image. The white mask. The purple knives spinning in the air. The figure that vanished like smoke.
What was that?
He didn't ask. Neither did Hikari. Neither did Obi.
Some things were better left unspoken.
✦ ✦ ✦
The Maw sat at the end of a really tall stone arcade, stone facade somehow grander than anything else in the Underworks. Inside, the ceiling vaulted impossibly high, held up by old steel beams that had probably been salvaged from something greater. The floor was darkened planks worn smooth by decades of boots and spills.
The smell hit first - perfectly cooked meat, alcohol, tobacco smoke, and something sweeter underneath. Money-changing hands. Deals being made.
Tables bolted to the floor. Smart. Men stood at nearly every one, laughter and arguments filling the air in equal measure. Cards shuffled. Dice clicked. Glasses clinked.
It looked like celebration, not like a bunch of criminals here to make a deal.
But everyone's hands stayed close to weapons.
Raizen scanned the room automatically, Kori's training kicking in. Three exits - main door, kitchen, back alley. The windows were too high to be useful. The noise thinned near the back corner.
That's where he sat.
Coat too new, too expensive for this place. Clean-shaven, slicked-back hair, fingers covered in rings that caught the lamplight. Forty, maybe fifty years old.
Marcus Valerius.
To his right: a bodyguard built like a wall. Wide shoulders, scarred jaw, one eye slightly clouded. Ex-military, by the way he held himself. His eyes moved constantly, tracking every person who got too close to Marcus's table.
Marcus checked a pocket watch, then shut it back with a soft click.
And under Marcus's other hand - exactly what they'd come for.
The Luminite case.