The training didn't stop after that.
If anything, it became quieter.
Less about power, more about control.
Aditya stood in the same spot again.
This time his eyes were open.
No rush, no force.
Just repetition.
The air shifted slightly around his hand.
Not bending, not breaking.
Listening.
He held it there longer this time.
Seconds, then more.
No crack, no collapse.
"…that's better."
Mira's voice came from nearby.
She sat on the low stone edge, watching him.
Not distracted, not bored.
Focused.
"…it's holding," Aditya said.
"…so hold it longer."
He exhaled slowly.
"…it's not that simple."
She tilted her head.
"…it never is."
A small pause.
"…but you're still doing it."
That was true.
He extended his hand slightly further.
The space expanded.
Still stable, still under control.
Then a tremor.
Barely noticeable, but there.
Aditya stopped immediately.
The space returned to normal.
"…you felt that," Mira said.
"…yeah."
"…and you stopped."
He looked at her.
"…if I push through that…"
"…you lose control?"
"…I don't know."
A pause.
"…and that's the problem."
Mira stood up, walking closer.
"…then don't cross it yet."
He frowned slightly.
"…I have to eventually."
"…not today."
Her tone wasn't soft; it was certain.
"…why?"
She stopped right in front of him.
"…because today you're learning how not to lose yourself."
The words landed deeper than expected.
"…and tomorrow?" he asked.
"…tomorrow you try going further."
A small pause.
"…but only if you're still you."
He didn't respond.
Because that was harder than anything else.
He turned slightly away and raised his hand again.
Slower this time, more precise.
The air responded again.
This time it didn't tremble.
It stayed longer than before.
Minutes passed.
Mira didn't interrupt, didn't speak.
Just stayed, watching, present.
Eventually, Aditya lowered his hand.
The air returned to normal.
"…that's enough," Mira said.
"…I can go longer."
"…I know."
She stepped closer.
"…but you don't need to."
A pause.
"…not right now."
He looked at her.
"…you're stopping me again."
She shrugged slightly.
"…someone has to."
A faint breath escaped him.
Not frustration, something lighter.
"…you're persistent."
She smirked.
"I fix things."
The same words again.
But this time he understood what she meant.
Not objects, not systems, people.
He sat down on the stone edge beside her, closer than before.
"…you think I'm broken?"
Mira didn't hesitate.
"…a little."
He let out a quiet breath.
"…fair."
A small pause.
"…but you're fixing yourself."
She glanced at him.
"…that's the important part."
Silence followed.
Not empty, but comfortable.
The kind that didn't need to be filled.
"…you're tired," she said after a while.
"…not really."
"…you are."
He didn't argue this time.
"…a little."
She leaned back slightly.
"…then stop pretending you're not human."
A faint smile appeared again.
"…you say that a lot."
"…because you forget a lot."
A pause.
"…then remind me."
She looked at him, not joking.
"…I will."
Something shifted again.
Not tension, not uncertainty.
Something steadier.
Aditya leaned back slightly.
For once, he let himself relax.
Not thinking about control, not thinking about power.
Just being there.
Mira shifted slightly beside him.
Not away, but closer.
Her shoulder lightly touched his.
No hesitation, no question.
He didn't move, didn't pull away.
Just let it happen.
"…this is easier than fighting," he said quietly.
"…of course it is."
She smiled faintly.
"…that's why people choose it."
He glanced at her.
"…and you?"
"…I didn't get that choice."
A small pause.
"…but I'd pick it now."
The words stayed.
Not loud, but real.
Aditya didn't respond immediately.
Then, slowly, his hand shifted slightly.
Not reaching, not forcing.
Just resting closer to hers.
Mira noticed but didn't say anything.
After a moment, her fingers moved.
Lightly brushing against his.
Then resting there.
Not holding, not pulling away.
Just there.
And this time, it felt natural.
Not unfamiliar, not uncertain.
Just right.
The wind passed softly around them.
The world remained steady.
And for once, nothing inside him tried to pull him away.