Agumi adjusted her grip on the sword, her gaze fixed on him.
"Don't regret this."
It wasn't a warning—just something she always said. Most people did regret it.
Aether didn't move. No stance, no preparation. Just standing there, watching her like nothing about this mattered.
That bothered her.
She stepped forward—and in the next instant, she closed the distance.
Her blade cut straight toward him, fast and precise, the kind of strike that ended fights before they began.
It didn't.
Aether shifted slightly.
Not back. Not even away. Just enough.
The sword passed by him, missing by a margin so small it didn't feel like a miss.
Agumi's eyes sharpened.
Too clean.
She didn't pause. Her body flowed into the next strike, then another, each one faster than the last. Her movements were fluid, instinctive, leaving no wasted motion behind.
None of them landed.
Aether didn't block. Didn't counter. He simply wasn't there when the strike arrived.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her breathing steady despite the pace.
"Watching."
That answer made her frown.
"…then watch this."
She moved again, faster this time, her presence tightening as if the space around her had shrunk. Her blade came from a different angle, sharper, harder to predict.
Aether observed quietly.
Most fighters relied on patterns. Even the skilled ones repeated themselves eventually. But she didn't. Each movement changed the next. She wasn't forcing anything—she was adapting.
That made her dangerous.
He stepped aside just before her blade reached him.
Again.
Too close.
Closer than before.
"…you're reading me," she said.
"You're not that hard to read."
A brief silence followed.
"…don't say that so calmly."
But she didn't look angry. If anything, her focus deepened.
Good.
She closed in again, pushing faster, her strikes gaining weight, intent becoming clearer with each movement.
For the first time, Aether raised his hand.
The air shifted.
It was subtle—barely noticeable—but enough.
Her blade stopped.
Not against him, but before him, as if something invisible had caught it mid-motion.
Agumi froze for a fraction of a second.
"…what was that?"
"Timing."
She stared at him, then let out a short breath that almost turned into a laugh.
"…you're lying."
"…probably."
The tension didn't break.
If anything, it settled into something quieter.
Agumi stepped back slightly, her grip loosening just enough to breathe.
"…this feeling again," she muttered.
Aether didn't ask. He understood.
"…like I've done this before," she continued, her voice lower now. "Not just fighting. You."
Aether's gaze didn't waver.
"…I know."
That answer lingered.
The space between them felt different now—not distant, not empty, but filled with something neither of them could explain.
Agumi frowned slightly. "…this is annoying."
"Why?"
She looked at him for a moment before answering. "…because I don't forget things."
He said nothing.
"…and this feels like I did."
The wind passed quietly between them.
Aether stepped forward once.
Agumi didn't move back.
"Then don't try to remember," he said.
She frowned. "…what?"
"Just move forward."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
For a moment, she just looked at him.
Then she let out a small laugh.
"…you talk like you know everything."
"I don't."
"…but?"
Aether met her gaze, calm as ever.
"This isn't something we lost."
A brief pause.
"It's something we haven't reached yet."
Agumi blinked, caught off guard for the first time.
Then she smiled.
Not wide. Not exaggerated. Just real.
"…you really are strange."
"You've said that already."
"And I'll probably say it again."
She lifted her sword again, not aggressively, just ready.
"…so, are we done?"
Aether shook his head slightly.
"No."
Her smile didn't fade.
"…good."
...