Awakening

The fluorescent lights above hummed steadily, a calm presence after the chaos outside. Hina’s eyelids fluttered open. The surface beneath her wasn’t the rough asphalt of the streets but the cold, smooth floor of the government facility’s medical bay. A faint vibration thrummed under the reinforced tiles, familiar and grounding.

Her vision sharpened slowly. First, she noticed her parents leaning over her, faces taut with relief. Her mother’s hand rested lightly on her arm, steadying, while her father’s presence radiated quiet firmness. Beside them, Yui hovered, clutching her sister’s jacket, small hands trembling, eyes wide with worry.

Hina’s throat was raw. She croaked, “I… I’m awake.” Her voice was fragile, almost swallowed by the sterile quiet of the room. Her parents’ faces softened at the sound, relief evident, though tempered by lingering concern.

“Rest now,” her father said, voice calm but firm. “We’ll stay close.” Her mother nodded, gently brushing a lock of hair from Hina’s forehead. Yui hesitated, clutching her jacket tighter, before stepping slightly back.

Hina’s eyes met Renji’s. Sparks of static danced faintly along his fingertips, restless, reflecting the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t speak at first, as if unsure what to say after the surge and the chaotic rescue.

“Hina…” he breathed, leaning slightly forward. “You’re awake…”

She blinked at him, clearing the haze from her vision. “Renji…?” she whispered, hoarse and uncertain.

Instinct took over before she could process it fully. The adrenaline, the fear, and the lingering tension collided, and she slapped him sharply across the cheek. Silence fell. Renji froze, pain and surprise crossing his face.

Hina’s chest heaved slightly. “You… scared me!” she shouted. “I thought… I thought you’d… you should’ve protected me!”

Renji rubbed his cheek, a faint, guilty smile tugging at his lips despite the sting. “Yeah… I guess I kind of deserved that,” he admitted softly. “I… I was too slow. I—”

Hina’s parents and Yui had been lingering near the doorway, tense and anxious. Now, sensing the subtle shift, they exchanged a quiet look. They stepped back together, Yui clutching her sister’s jacket tightly, and her parents moving aside. Without a word, they left the room, leaving the two alone. It was clear—they would allow Hina and Renji to handle the moment themselves.

Renji shifted, giving her a small, self-conscious shrug. “See? I was worried,” he murmured, voice low. “I… I couldn’t help it.”

Hina’s eyes lingered on him, noting the subtle tension in his posture, the restless sparks along his fingertips. She did not smile. She did not reach for him. She simply observed, steady and deliberate, cataloging the details without letting herself respond outwardly.

Several long seconds passed in quiet observation. The hum of the floor, the faint flicker of the fluorescent lights, the distant pulse of the city beyond the reinforced windows—all seemed magnified in the stillness of the room. Hina remained composed, measured, outwardly unaffected by the undercurrent of tension between them.

Renji’s gaze softened, sensing her watchfulness and measured calm. Sparks continued to flicker faintly at his fingertips. “We’ll face whatever comes next… together,” he said quietly.

Hina inclined her head slightly, a minimal acknowledgment, careful and neutral. Sparks danced faintly between them, harmless, subtle, a quiet recognition rather than an admission. She stayed composed, her posture controlled, observing him without revealing any internal pull.

Outside the room, somewhere in the facility, Renji remained vigilant. He hadn’t returned to her side—he was stationed in a quiet observation area, testing and stretching the limits of his powers. Sparks leapt and curled along his fingertips as he practiced bending and redirecting currents, the hum of the city beneath the facility vibrating faintly through the floor. His mind, however, wasn’t fully on the exercises. Hina’s safety lingered in every thought, every reflexive movement of his hands.

Haruto approached him quietly, noting the tension in Renji’s posture. “You’re still thinking about her,” he observed, his voice low. “More than you should be. She’s resting. You need to calm down.”

Renji’s eyes didn’t leave the field he had created with his hands. “I… I can’t. Not after what happened. If something went wrong again…” He let the words trail off, unspoken but sharp in the air.

Haruto gave a faint, knowing smile. “You care too much. It’s obvious. Just… don’t let it burn you out. Focus on what you’re doing here, okay?”

Renji exhaled slowly, blinking, and finally allowed himself to settle. His focus shifted fully to the currents he was manipulating, testing new ways to control and expand his power. Sparks twisted into intricate spirals, arcs bending and snapping at his will. He felt stronger—more precise. Every surge he redirected, every stray arc he contained, was a step closer to mastering what had nearly overwhelmed him earlier.

Meanwhile, Hina remained in the medical bay, eyes closed, drifting in and out of awareness. Even as she rested, her mind wandered to Renji—his determination, the way he had risked himself, his constant vigilance. She noted it internally, but kept her emotions guarded. I can’t… I shouldn’t depend on him so much. Not yet. If I do… it could put him in danger.

She opened her eyes again briefly, scanning the room without really focusing. The soft glow of the monitors and the low hum beneath the floor were grounding, but thoughts of Renji lingered. She didn’t move toward him, didn’t reach out. She simply observed quietly, maintaining distance, while internally acknowledging the pull she felt.

Back in the observation area, Renji pushed his power further. Electricity flowed smoothly between his hands, arcs stretching longer and twisting sharper, responding instantaneously to his thoughts. He tested new patterns, imagining the surges Ishikawa might send next, feeling himself grow stronger, more capable. Each attempt made him more confident that he could protect Hina and the city if needed.

Haruto lingered nearby, watching the sparks dance around Renji. “You’re getting better,” he said quietly. “Much faster than I expected. Just… don’t let the worry for her cloud your judgment.”

Renji allowed a small smirk, faintly embarrassed. “Easier said than done.” His eyes flicked toward the corridor leading to Hina’s room. Even from a distance, he imagined her resting, her chest rising and falling steadily. It was a small reassurance, but it kept him grounded.

Hina’s eyes fluttered open again later, more alert this time. She scanned the room instinctively, then paused as her thoughts drifted to Renji. She reminded herself, silently, firmly: I can’t… I can’t let myself lean on him. Not yet. He’s strong, but I have to be careful. I can’t make it harder for him.

For a while, she simply rested, letting her body recover, while her mind quietly processed the storm, the aftermath, and the faint, complicated pull toward someone who had become more than just an ally.

Outside the medical bay, Renji continued his practice. Sparks twisted, arcs danced, and he tested the flow of energy through himself and the facility. Every motion was controlled, deliberate—he was stronger now, more capable, but every thought still drifted to Hina.

The facility hummed with quiet energy, the city outside restless but contained, Ishikawa observing from afar, patient. For now, Hina rested and Renji grew stronger. Both were aware of the stakes to come, and both were quietly tethered to each other, even across the distance of a few hallways.