I watched him from the far end of the yard. I had arrived late so his gate gate didn't make a sound he could hear over the rhythm of his breathing and the soft impact of his feet on the dirt.
The Phoenix hangs above us both, casting everything in that low, steady red-gold, and for a few long minutes he doesn't know I'm here.
There's a particular honesty that only exists when someone doesn't know they're being watched. I usually route around it. But tonight I didn't.
He's was not a D-rank. He hasn't been D-rank for some time. Whatever is working on him was working fast. His forms are cleaner. The power sitting differently in his body.
I can feel it from here, like heat coming off a forge. I think I am not going to be able to stay at this distance indefinitely. Then he turned.
