Shadows, blades and bonds

Akihiko’s faint smile lingered for a moment, but the calm shattered as a sharp, urgent tone cut through the chamber.

Ping.

StarCom flashed a bright red symbol—impossible to ignore. His eyes narrowed at the sight.

“PRIORITY ALERT—Silent sensors have detected an energy fluctuation near the outer edge of planet Akarihoshi’ protective field. Source: unidentified vessel. Possible connection to the known frequencies of prince Kaelrith.”

Akihiko’s features hardened instantly. The light in the chamber reflected faintly on the tense planes of his face.

“Connect me to the security council,” he commanded. The system responded instantly, holographic panels flickering to life around him.

He studied the spatial display before him. A small red dot hovered just outside the main shield layer—a ghostly, subtle flicker in the darkness of space.

“What’s happening…” he murmured under his breath. “It’s definitely not good…”

The door opened silently, and Naoru appeared in Akihiko’s chamber, having received the same alert.

“I see you got the message too,” Naoru said, calm but taut with tension.

Akihiko nodded, keeping his eyes on the blinking red dot.

Naoru’s gaze followed the same spot, steady. “It belongs to Kaelrith. What’s your command?”

“For now,” Akihiko said coldly, every syllable controlled, “observe only. No one from reconnaissance acts.”

Naoru inclined his head gravely. “Understood.”

The echo of Akihiko’s footsteps resonated down the corridors of the palace, each step measured and purposeful, a silent storm in his mind. The red dot pulsed like a heartbeat outside the protective shields of Akarihoshi.

When he entered the royal study, king Kaito was already there, hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning the misty horizon of distant mountains.

“I see you’ve been informed,” Kaito said softly before Akihiko could speak.

“A reconnaissance vessel. No doubt it’s Kaelrith’s,” Akihiko stated plainly, each word weighted with concern.

The king remained silent, considering. “We’ve only detected its presence. No aggression. Observation only.”

“This is just the beginning, Father. He’s testing us, probing our defenses. We cannot wait for him to make the first move.”

Kaito’s steps were deliberate as he approached. “Akihiko…”

“You can’t tell me this isn’t a threat,” Akihiko said, voice rising slightly. “We know who Kaelrith is.”

Kaito’s expression softened, calm yet firm. “We know who his father was. That is not the same as who he is.”

Akihiko froze. His gaze faltered, a mix of doubt and frustration clouding his features.

“Kaelrith could be completely different. We cannot judge him before we even know his intentions. Isn’t that what I taught you, son?”

The king reached out lightly. “That is why we have sensors, strategy… but we must maintain our humanity, Akihiko.”

Akihiko nodded. "I don’t trust him,” was echoing in his mind.

Meanwhile prince Kaelrith stood alone in the heart of his ship’s command bridge—tall, cloaked in dark fabric, a shadow amidst cold control panels, eyes burning with quiet.

A holographic image of Akarihoshi floated before him, shields pulsing like a heartbeat. One of his commanders entered, steps precise, mechanical.

“Prince… report from reconnaissance.”

Kaelrith didn’t look up. “Speak.”

“Planet Akarihoshi remains at full defensive readiness. Shields stable. No weak points detected. No anomalies.”

Kaelrith’s eyes flickered with icy contempt. “Nothing unusual…” he whispered. His fist clenched, veins swelling, tension slicing through the air.

“You killed my father.” The words were cold, sharp—a silent explosion beneath his calm exterior.

“Prepare Phase One. Silence before the strike,” he commanded, cloak whispering behind him.

The commander bowed. “Understood.”

Kaelrith paused, voice barely audible. “Let them feel safe. For now ...”

Somewhere inside the palace, Aiko walked the quiet halls, unrest stirring in her chest. She felt the need to move, to calm the swirling thoughts. Her steps led her instinctively to the training hall—the place Akihiko often sought to clear his mind.

The hall smelled faintly of metal and sweat, sunlight streaming through tall windows, casting warm, golden strips across the springy floor. Weapons lined the walls, silent sentinels of the training to come.

Akihiko and Naoru were already there. Akihiko’s focus softened at her approach; Naoru’s usual calm gaze welcomed her.

“Oh? You came to watch the sword training?”?” Naoru, faint smile touching his lips.

““If I won’t bother you?” Responded Aiko.

“How are you feeling?” Akihiko asked gently.

Aiko raised her head. “Good… I think I’m good.”

Naoru chuckled lightly. “How about sparring with Akihiko? A good way to test your strength and limits.”

Akihiko hesitated. “I’m not sure. We don’t know if she’s fully ready.”

“Of course she is,” Naoru replied wryly. “If she’s determined, she’ll manage.”

Akihiko offered an encouraging look. “You think you’re ready?”

Aiko nodded. “Actually… I’m not dressed for combat.”

Akihiko gestured toward the changing room. “No problem. We’ll find suitable gear.”

Moments later, Aiko returned in light, flexible clothing. Naoru was gone. She glanced at Akihiko, concern flickering.

“He’s probably handling something. He’ll be back,” Akihiko explained.

“Okay…” she murmured, taking a deep breath, resolve building in her chest.

They began warm-ups: stretching, lunging, breathing, motion flowing into rhythm. Akihiko’s instructions were gentle yet precise.

“First lesson: grip,” he said, handing her the sword. “Hands relaxed but firm. Slow swings first.”

Aiko felt the sword’s weight—strange, light, responsive.

“Like this?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “Footwork matters too—silent, precise, always ready.”

As she practiced, Akihiko watched, silently impressed by her innate talent.

“Impressive,” he murmured, faint smile touching his lips.

A short break brought water, soft encouragement, and gentle observation.

Then, a sparring stance. Eyes locked, hearts steady.

Akihiko tested her lightly. Aiko blocked, ducked, pivoted, gradually confident. He nodded, approving.

Finally, as she swung with all her strength, he disarmed her with a swift, precise move. She stumbled, colliding softly with him.

For a heartbeat, time froze. Bodies brushing lightly, hearts syncing in a shared pulse. Akihiko’s eyes softened, and Aiko felt a warmth she couldn’t ignore.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here to catch you.”

Aiko’s cheeks warmed, but she smiled, rising quickly.

“You know,” Akihiko murmured, voice low, “I don’t mind if this happens again. In fact,… I might even like it.”

Her heart raced. “Maybe… I should learn how to fall so you can catch me every time,” she teased.

He exhaled slowly, thoughtful, then smiled. “Sometimes feelings are stronger than any sword. But control is what lets us truly win.”

The words lingered, quiet but weighty.

“Training is over,” he said softly. “You’ve learned a lot today. Every swing, every movement… you’ve grown stronger.”

Aiko felt a swell of pride, a new sense of connection, and a warmth she couldn’t name, yet treasured deeply.