The heart learns to soar

The Akarihoshi sun had already begun to warm the palace garden when Mika appeared outside Aiko’s chamber, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her wide smile carried confidence—and mischief.

“Good morning, cousin! Time to see what serious training looks like on Akarihoshi,” she said, winking. “And don’t worry, I’ve taken care of everything. The designer is already preparing a special uniform—you won’t look like an ordinary soldier.”

Aiko raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Mika… you really think I’ll train? I’m just here to observe. Watching a duel between you and Naoru would be fun enough. Do you always tease each other like that? You are like cat and dog.”

Mika laughed, adjusting her hair as if it were casual. “Tease? Oh, that’s pure tactical exercise. You never know when you might have to pick a weapon—sword or sarcasm. Okay, I won’t force you into anything. But put on the uniform… just in case.”

Aiko smirked slightly, comforted by the familiarity in Mika’s voice. “Fine. And maybe I’ll try a bit, just so you’re not disappointed. If I survive, I’ll keep the uniform.”

Mika chuckled, giving a playful shake of her head. “If you survive, we’ll have dessert. If not… well, I’ll eat your portion.”

“Typical cousin,” Aiko replied, laughing softly.

At the Training Ground

The sun blazed over the green plains of the military training area. Aiko sat on a bench, her legs swinging slightly as she watched. Obstacle courses, shooting ranges, and a wide sword-practice field stretched out before her, brimming with energy.

Naoru and Akihiko entered the battle arena. Naoru’s confidence radiated like sunlight; Akihiko’s calm focus was almost magnetic.

“Oh… if Naoru wins, he’ll be strutting for three more days,” Mika whispered, hiding a grin. “You won’t be able to live with him— ‘I defeated Akihiko,’ he’ll tell everyone. Even the walls.”

Aiko tilted her head, curious. “So… who usually wins?”

“That depends. If Akihiko takes it seriously, he wins. But Naoru is skilled, stubborn… and loves to impress an audience. Especially when someone interesting is watching.” Mika’s eyes flicked toward Aiko, teasing.

Aiko’s cheeks warmed. “…You mean me?”

“Of course,” Mika whispered with a smile.

Swords glinted in the sunlight. Naoru’s attacks were wild, unpredictable; Akihiko’s were precise, deliberate, almost effortless. The rhythm of the duel was perfect—until Akihiko’s gaze flicked up.

At the edge of the field, Aiko sat quietly, watching. Her reddish hair caught the sunlight, and her expression—calm, sincere—momentarily threw him off balance.

Naoru noticed instantly. “Now!” he thought, lunging aggressively. Akihiko’s defense faltered slightly. Almost. But instinctively, he regained his footing, blocked the strike, and returned to his usual calm.

Mika whispered to Aiko, “Wow… he almost fell. Did you see that?”

Aiko’s eyes widened. “Did… he look at me?”

“Yes. And almost paid for it,” Mika smiled.

After a few more exchanges, Akihiko’s precision won out. Naoru yielded.

“Victory—Akihiko Miyahara!” the judge announced.

Naoru, still smiling despite defeat, glanced at Aiko. “Heh… I almost had him. But did you see how his focus wavered?”

Akihiko’s faint blush was subtle, but Aiko noticed it anyway.

Later, Mika led Aiko across the vast armada of vessels, each gleaming with elegance and power. Naoru narrated their stories; Akihiko silently observed Aiko absorbing every detail.

“This is part of the world we live in,” Akihiko explained. “Technology, discipline, tradition… it all intertwines in everyday life.”

Aiko’s eyes sparkled as she admired the holographic controls of a personal craft. Akihiko guided her hands over them, calm and precise. “The craft responds to your mind, not just physical movements,” he explained.

Aiko inhaled deeply, awe in her voice. “It’s like… I could fly. Like the craft is part of me. Free, yet safe at the same time.”

Akihiko’s rare, hidden warmth shone in his eyes. “Indeed. But we train and prepare—not to seek battles, but to protect those we care about.”

Aiko’s heart fluttered. Every word, every gesture, felt… human. Real. And it stirred something deep inside her.

As Akihiko and Aiko stood side by side at the simulator, their hands brushed. A fleeting touch. A spark. Akihiko’s disciplined composure faltered just enough.

“Do you want to see the inside of a real craft?” he asked softly, invitation in his calm voice.

Aiko nodded, slightly surprised. She followed him, heart racing, into the sleek interior. Every panel, every gentle hum of the engines, made her feel like she was stepping into a dream.

Guided by Akihiko, she learned to move the craft with her mind. Each gentle correction, each shared glance, made the world feel smaller and the distance between them shrink ever so slightly.

Then Mika asked Aiko with her calm voice with a playful spark.

“Aiko, would you like to shoot with a gun?”.

Aiko blinked at her. “A… a gun?” she stammered, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up.

Mika crouched beside her, tilting the sleek, futuristic weapon so Aiko could feel its weight. “Yes. Don’t worry about hitting the target the first time. It’s about feeling it, understanding it. The weapon isn’t your enemy — it’s part of you.”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she wrapped them around the grip. The battlefield stretched ahead, dotted with hovering drones and metallic targets, their hum blending with the distant roar of training exercises.

“Focus,” Mika instructed softly. “Breathe. Anticipate the recoil. Trust your instincts.”

Aiko took a deep breath, feeling the energy of the gun vibrate under her hands. She aimed at a drone hovering just ahead. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

“Now,” Mika whispered.

Aiko squeezed the trigger. A beam of glowing energy shot forward, striking the drone dead-on. Sparks flew, and for a heartbeat, Aiko couldn’t believe it.

“You did it!” Mika said, her rare smile lighting up her face. “One more time. Let the weapon and your movement flow as one.”

From the observation platform, Akihiko leaned slightly forward, eyes fixed on Aiko. “She learns so fast,” he muttered, his voice low.

Naoru chuckled, nudging him lightly. “Don’t act so surprised.”

Mika glanced up from beside Aiko, smirking. “Oh? Are you two doubting my skills as an instructor now?” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Akihiko’s lips twitched. “Not at all.”

“She’s improving with every shot,” Naoru said, grinning.

Mika laughed softly.

“Aiko, aim for that drone over there,” she instructed, pointing at a distant target. “Remember — focus, feel the gun, trust yourself.”

Aiko swallowed, then nodded. Her hands no longer trembled as much. She aimed carefully and squeezed the trigger. The energy beam streaked forward, hitting the target dead-on.

Akihiko was pleasantly surprised. “Okay… that was impressive.”

Naoru clapped his hands together, grinning. “See? Told you she’s got it! Mika, you better watch out — she might surpass you soon.”

Mika tilted her head, pretending to look worried. “Hmph. Not possible. But… you’re definitely getting there, Aiko.”

Aiko’s cheeks flushed, a mix of pride and embarrassment. Around them, the battlefield hummed with motion, sparks, and distant training calls, but in that moment, laughter, encouragement, and the quiet thrill of accomplishment tied them together —instructor, trainee, and two impressed observers, all part of the same energetic moment.

The wind blew pleasantly as they returned to the palace. Aiko sat smiling behind Mika on a futuristic flying bike, their hair playfully swept by the wind. Beside them, each on their own bike, Akihiko and Naoru glided smoothly and confidently.

Akihiko occasionally glanced at Aiko and Mika, his face relaxed yet focused. Naoru observed with a touch of mischief, as if trying to impart a sense of lightness to everyone, though he knew responsibilities were always near.

In the air, there was a sense of freedom and connection that, despite all the differences among them, was slowly but steadily growing.

At the Akarihoshi palace.

Aiko turned to Mika, who had followed behind, smiling with playful energy.

"Thank you… for everything today. The tour, the explanations… it was amazing."

Mika winked.

"Next time, you’ll try something else—you learn really quick. I’ll prepare you. It’ll be fun, I promise."

Naoru leaned slightly toward Akihiko, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

"She’s ready for her next lesson, aren’t you, Akihiko? Shall we show her a few sword techniques?"

Akihiko gave a subtle nod, his expression serious yet carrying a hint of warmth.

"Of course. Basics first. I’ll guide her."

Aiko’s heart fluttered. But her body was weary from all the experiences, and a wave of dizziness overcame her. Her body was still adjusting to the alien atmosphere. She took a step back, and instinctively Akihiko’s hand caught hers. His touch was firm but gentle, grounding her.

Akihiko (quietly, concerned):

"Naoru, call Miraya."

Aiko shook her head lightly, smiling despite her weak knees.

"I’m okay, really. Just… a bit lightheaded."

Akihiko carefully lifted her into his arms, moving with the grace of someone accustomed to both discipline and care. He took her to her chamber and set her on her bed, tucked the blanket over her, and glanced at her, concern softening his usually stoic eyes.

Miraya entered, calm and precise. She checked Aiko’s vitals, her experienced hands moving with efficiency and care.

Miraya:

"It’s nothing serious. The atmosphere here affects some humans more than others. Just rest a little; you’ll adjust soon."

Akihiko nodded silently, grateful for her reassurance. He brought Aiko a warm meal, making sure she ate despite her protests.

Aiko (softly, almost shyly):

"Thank you… but you haven’t eaten yet."

Akihiko smiled lightly.

"Don’t worry about me. Let’s just focus on you regaining strength."

After finishing the meal, Akihiko noticed Aiko’s slight unease. He guided her gently to the balcony, placing a soft, self-inflating cushion for her to sit upon. The warm night air mingled with the faint glow of the palace lights, carrying the soft scent of alien blossoms.

Aiko:

"The stars… they’re… so different. And yet, somehow, they feel more mine than Earth’s."

Akihiko quietly instructed Aura to dim the room’s lights, leaving only the night sky to illuminate them. He sat beside her, careful to respect the distance yet close enough that his presence was a comfort.

Aiko rested her head on his shoulder, feeling a warmth, she hadn’t expected.

Aiko (whispering):

"I haven’t thanked you… for saving me."

Akihiko’s voice was calm, sincere, almost a whisper of reassurance:

"You don’t need to thank me. I would do it again."

For a long while, they sat in silence, the stars above reflecting the quiet bond forming between them. Aiko’s breathing slowed, her heartbeat syncing with the gentle rhythm of the night. Akihiko’s thoughts, usually focused on duty and strategy, softened in the glow of this shared moment.

He gently tucked the blanket around her once more before rising. His eyes lingered on her for a heartbeat longer, a quiet promise echoing in the still air: he would watch over her, even in silence, even when no words were spoken.