Wings of Guidance

The steady hum of the wind coursed through the open windows of the academy, a constant reminder of the skies that defined their world. Kaito stood by the whiteboard, marker in hand, as he faced his small class of recruits. Despite his calm demeanor, the faint ache in his right shoulder never let him forget why he was here—and why he wasn’t still out there.

It had been several months since he returned to Japan after the incident from his last mission that nearly cost him his life and although he had begun to come to terms with the fact that he’ll no longer be able to participate in combat, he still struggled to fully accept the reality of the situation.

He now worked as a tutor at the Tokyo Militia Academy (TMA) and decided to aid aspirants fulfill their dreams of becoming aero combatants serving their societies to the best of their abilities.

“Ogawa, for the fifth time, focus. You’re not charming your way through aero combat training,” Kaito said, his tone firm but edged with dry humor.

Katsuhito smirked, tossing his hair dramatically. “Sensei, it’s not my fault the skies love me. I’m just a natural.”

“Yeah, naturally irritating,” Reina muttered from her seat. She crossed her arms and gave him a bratty glare. “Some of us are trying to actually learn something. It’ll do you good to not get in the way”

Kaito sighed, glancing between the two. “Reina, quit instigating. Ogawa, sit properly, or I’ll have you practicing spins until you can’t walk straight.”

The class snickered, but Ogawa’s grin only widened. “Yes, sir.”

“So what’ll we be learning today, Sensei?” Emi asked with a spark of excitement.

“Nothing much, I’ll have you guys practicing your balance control at high altitudes. I need —”

“Yeah yeah, we get it,” Reina interrupted.

“Don’t be rude to Sensei just because you’re related,” Leona chided, her voice firm.

“As I was saying,” Kaito continued, “I need you guys to master control over your center of gravity, it’ll come in handy when we begin combat training.”

After class, Kaito sat on a bench overlooking the training field, watching the recruits as they practiced synchronized maneuvers. The academy wasn’t large—only a handful of students were accepted into the military’s aero combat division each year—but that made each one of them all the more important.

Hikari Shimizu, ever the optimist, waved at him enthusiastically before attempting an ambitious mid-air flip. “Sensei, check this out!”

Kaito’s brows furrowed. “Shimizu, keep your center of gravity steady or—”

The boy spiraled out of control, barely managing to regain balance before landing awkwardly. The others burst into laughter.

“—you’ll crash,” Kaito finished, shaking his head. “You’re too reckless.”

Hikari scratched his head sheepishly. “But it looked cool, right?”

Leona, standing nearby, folded her arms with a serious expression. “Shimizu, focus on safety first. Aero combat isn’t a game.”

Seconds later, she tripped over a stray training weight and landed ungracefully on her back. A moment of stunned silence passed before laughter erupted again.

“Great example, Muller,” Kaito said, hiding a smirk.

Leona’s face turned beet red. “That was... a tactical fall.”

Later that afternoon, Emi approached him after a private sparring session. Her breath was ragged, but her determination was clear.

“Sensei, I can’t seem to get the timing right on the new dive maneuver,” she admitted. “Can you show me again?”

Kaito nodded, though the strain in his injured arm made him hesitate. “Pay close attention this time.”

He demonstrated slowly, making every motion deliberate. Emi’s sharp eyes followed every move, and she mimicked him until she started to get the hang of it.

“You push yourself too hard, Sensei,” she said quietly as they walked back to the main building.

“Hard enough to keep you all from slacking off and besides, that’s my line” he replied, deflecting her concern.

Emi chuckled a bit, but didn’t miss the subtle wince as he stretched his shoulder. Her expression softened, but she didn’t press further. “Then I’ll make sure to live up to being an aero combatant trained by you.”

Kaito paused, her words striking a chord. He managed a faint smile. “See that you do.”

As the day ended, Kaito returned to his modest apartment near the academy grounds. His mother, Harumi, was already asleep in the next room. The quiet moments at home often brought a sense of peace, though the weight of his past was never far behind.

“Kaito, is that you?” his mother called, her voice weak. “Yes it’s me,” Kaito replied, “I thought you were asleep”.

“I actually just woke up,” she said trying to sit up. “You don’t need to force yourself,” he said, assisting her with the pillow. “I’ll make sure to find a cure, so please don’t push yourself”, with a faint relieving smile, Harumi replied, “you don’t need to worry about me”.

He left the room quietly and stared out the window at the starlit sky, thinking of his students—their quirks, their determination, and their potential. They reminded him of why he stayed, even when his body screamed for rest. For them, he would endure.

And for them, he would keep his pain hidden, no matter how heavy it felt.