The forest was peaceful, the kind of place that made you forget the world could be cruel. Birds chirped lazily, the wind carried the scent of wildflowers, and the sun painted the sky in soft gold. If you didn't know any better, you'd think this was a good day. A quiet day.
But nothing was quiet when it came to training with Grandpa.
I stood before him, katana gripped tight in both hands, my bare feet pressing into the dirt. The blade felt like an extension of myself—an old companion that had seen me through pain, sweat, and relentless days of training. Every muscle in my body burned, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer force of my will. This wasn't just a spar. This was a battle.
Raphael moved above me, a shadow weaving through the trees. He was silent, but I could feel him there, his presence sharp like the daggers he carried. His chainfangs glinted in the fading light, ready to tear through anything in their path.
We had fought Grandpa too many times to count. And every time, without fail, he humiliated us. It didn't matter how much stronger we got, how much faster, how much more we pushed past our limits—he always stood at the top, untouchable.
Not today.
I moved first, vanishing in a blur of speed, my katana slicing through the air. Raphael struck from above at the same time, the weight of his attack promising to crush anything in its path. Our coordination was perfect. Our timing flawless.
And yet—
Grandpa wasn't there.
My blade cut through empty space. Raphael's daggers found nothing but wind. Grandpa's figure shimmered like a mirage before vanishing entirely.
"Really?" I grit my teeth, twisting midair. "Again?"
Raphael barely had time to curse before Grandpa reappeared behind us, arms crossed, his usual infuriatingly calm smile tugging at his lips.
"Not bad," he mused. "I almost felt that one."
Something in me snapped. I launched my katana, spinning it with enough speed to split a boulder. Raphael moved in tandem, vanishing only to reappear a breath later, his chainfangs gleaming in the sliver of light breaking through the trees.
Grandpa tilted his head. My katana missed by less than an inch.
But Raphael was already there, his blade streaking toward Grandpa's throat.
For the first time, I felt it—a shift. A moment where victory felt possible.
And then Grandpa moved.
Not dodging. Not stepping back. Just… moving.
One instant, he was there. The next, he wasn't.
I barely had time to process before pain exploded in my gut.
A force like a hurricane sent me flying, my body twisting as I crashed into a tree hard enough to splinter bark. The breath in my lungs vanished.
Raphael didn't fare much better. He was a blur of motion, flipping to regain his footing—only for Grandpa to appear before him, flicking a single finger against his forehead.
The air cracked.
Raphael was sent hurtling through the forest, a blur of white and black smashing through branches before slamming into the ground.
I groaned, struggling to push myself up. "You have got to be kidding me."
Grandpa dusted off his hands, looking entirely unbothered. "You both did better this time," he admitted. Then he grinned, and that was somehow worse. "I'd give you a solid... three out of ten."
Then he threw his head back and laughed, shaking his head at us. "You boys really got me by surprise that time," he said, his voice full of teasing amusement. "For once, I was actually scared."
I groaned from where I was still sprawled on the ground. "You say that every time."
Raphael, dragging himself to his feet, grumbled, "That's easy for you to say. We've never won a single spar against you."
"And you never even let us rest between fights," I added, rubbing my sore ribs.
Grandpa just crossed his arms, grinning like he wasn't the reason we were half-dead. "Of course not! When I'm no longer around, who do you think will need to be the strongest in the world?"
Raphael raised an eyebrow. "Strongest? We can't even lay a scratch on you."
"Exactly!" I muttered. "We're not even close."
Grandpa laughed again, loud and carefree. "You're stronger than you think, both of you. You might even be stronger than those who claim to be strong now." He stretched his arms over his head, then turned to me. "Come on, Kibo—get up. Let's head home."
I sighed but pushed myself up, my body aching all over. Grandpa walked over to Raphael, giving him a nod. "You did well, Raphael. Your silent movements are improving."
Raphael smirked a little. "Still didn't get me close enough, though."
We gathered our weapons and made our way back, the sight of the small cottage waiting for us at the edge of the forest. The smell of fresh linen mixed with the scent of trees and wildflowers. Lily was outside, hanging laundry on the line, her sharp black eyes focused as she worked. Her brown hair caught the light, and her red-and-white dress swayed in the breeze. Beside her, Sora adjusted her glasses, her maid uniform crisp and perfect as always.
Lily saw us first. "Welcome home!" she called out, dropping the laundry and running toward us.
Grandpa stretched his arms wide, grinning. "Come give Grandpa a hug!"
Lily ran right past him and threw her arms around me instead.
Grandpa froze, looking heartbroken. "That hurts," he muttered. "They grow up too fast."
Raphael chuckled. "Don't I deserve a hug too?"
Still hugging me, Lily said, "I'm not a child. And only Kibo deserves my hugs."
Grandpa gasped like he'd been betrayed. "What about your dear old grandpa?"
Lily turned to him with the most casual expression. "Welcome home, Grandpa."
"But no hug?" he pressed, looking genuinely offended.
Sora walked up, smirking. "I don't see why an old man should be so upset about hugs."
Grandpa turned to her dramatically. "Then will you give me one?"
"Absolutely not," she said without hesitation.
Grandpa let out the most exaggerated sigh I'd ever heard. He turned to Raphael, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What do you say, Raphael? We shouldn't be deprived of hugs."
Raphael just shrugged. "I have no comment."
Watching everyone joke around, I couldn't help but drift off for a moment. It's been fourteen years since Raphael and Lily came to live with us. Twelve years of sweat, pain, and relentless discipline. So much has changed.
I glanced at Raphael, who was laughing with Sora and Grandpa, looking completely at ease. He isn't the same as he was before. He's stronger now, faster, and more confident—perhaps too confident. And yet, no matter how much we train, no matter how much stronger we get… we still can't beat Grandpa. Not even once.
I don't know how many times we've tried. Every day, we push ourselves beyond our limits—dragging boulders up mountains, meditating under freezing waterfalls, training until our muscles give out. And yet, when it comes down to it, when we stand before Grandpa in a fight, it's always the same. We never even come close. He's like an immovable force, a mountain that refuses to break, no matter how hard we hit.
I let out a small breath, trying not to get too caught up in frustration. My thoughts shifted as I felt Lily press against me, her arms still wrapped tightly around my waist. Her soft brown hair brushed my bare chest, her head tucked just under my chin. It was familiar—she'd always been like this, affectionate and warm. But lately…
Lately, it's been different.
She's grown so much. The little girl who used to cling to everyone for protection is gone, replaced by someone strong, independent… beautiful. But even now, she clings to me like she used to.
I swallowed hard, trying to push away the uneasy feeling in my chest. She has no idea, does she? No idea what she's doing to me.
Her voice was soft against my skin. "Kibo, how was training?"
I forced myself to focus, to keep my voice steady. "Same as always. We didn't win."
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her black eyes filled with frustration. "Grandpa's such a meanie," she huffed.
I chuckled, rubbing the back of my head. "That's just how he is."
Her pout deepened, and she pressed close again, her arms tightening around me. "Don't worry, Kibo. I know you'll beat him one day."
The certainty in her voice made my heart ache. How does she believe in me so easily when I doubt myself so often?
I looked down at her, at the way her hair fell in messy strands over her face, at the quiet determination in her eyes. She doesn't waver. She never has. Her faith in me is absolute.
But this… this is too much.
Her fingers brushed over my scars, tracing them absentmindedly, completely unaware of the fire she was lighting inside me. I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my breathing steady. She doesn't mean anything by it. She's just being Lily. Kind, affectionate, Lily.
I clenched my jaw, trying to will away the warmth rising in my chest. She has no idea. She has no idea how hard it is to stand here, to pretend that nothing is changing, that we aren't little anymore.
She has no idea that every time she holds me like this, it drives me insane.
And yet, despite everything, despite the storm raging inside me, I can't pull away. Because in the end, her hugs aren't just hugs. They're reminders. No matter how brutal our training gets, no matter how impossible our goals seem, I'm not alone.
She believes in me. Even when I don't believe in myself.
I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes for a moment. But still, in the back of my mind, one thought lingered, quiet but relentless.
How much longer can I keep this to myself?
From my viewpoint, I died at eighteen. Getting reincarnated gave me another shot, but time feels strange when it resets. Technically, I'm thirty-two now, counting the fourteen years I've been here. But emotionally… it's not that simple. The weight of my past life never really left me, and moments like this just make it worse.
Life has changed a lot in these years. Sora, for example. I used to think of her as my aunt. She calls Grandpa "Granduncle," so it made sense. But then I found out she's actually Tanaka's granddaughter. Which raises a lot of questions about how that even works… but honestly, it's not my business.
Grandpa, though, is the biggest mystery. For twelve years, he hasn't spent a single night at home. He disappears after sunset and comes back before dawn, just in time to drag Raphael and me into training like nothing happened. I stopped wondering a long time ago. If he wanted us to know, he'd tell us.
Then there's Sora and Raphael. I'll never forget the day I found out about them. I walked in on them having sex. Completely by accident, but that didn't make it any less scarring. Sora, always so proper. Raphael, the last person I expected to be that bold. But there they were. I stood there like an idiot, my brain refusing to catch up with my eyes, until it finally hit me—I was invading their privacy. I backed out fast.
Even now, I don't know how to process it. Sora's loud. Anyone else in the house would've woken up by now. But Lily's such a deep sleeper, she never notices. I think she's picked up on the way Sora and Raphael act around each other, though. There's something different between them, a quiet understanding that wasn't there before. But she doesn't say anything about it.
Sometimes, I feel like an outsider in my own home. I watch everyone grow, change, form new bonds, while I stand here carrying two lives' worth of baggage.
And then, as always, Ignis ruins my thoughts.
"Brat, are you planning to stand there forever? What, are you growing roots now?"
I sigh internally. Can't you see Lily's hugging me?
"And? What, you need permission to hug back? Pathetic. You humans are always draping yourselves over each other like lost puppies. Isn't that your thing?"
It's… complicated.
"Complicated? Of course it is. You humans can't do anything without making it a mess. Hugging, fighting, even breathing—it's all a disaster with you lot. When I break out of this prison you call a body, I'll set my own rules. Then we'll see how 'complicated' things get."
Ignis. The name alone weighs on me. His presence burns in my chest, always there, always waiting. He claims this heart—my dragon heart—belongs to him. Says it was my mother who sealed him inside me, that she stole his heart and gave it to me.
My mother… I can't believe that. She was the kindest person I ever knew. The thought of her being involved in something like that is ridiculous. But Ignis swears it's true. He says she wasn't ordinary.
I don't know what to believe.
Back in his prime, Ignis claimed he was the strongest dragon of them all—a terror that made the world tremble. He swore my mother, the "Crazy Witch," fought him, not for honor, not for revenge, but for an experiment. In the end, she won. She ripped his essence away and somehow put his heart inside me.
I didn't want to believe it. My mother—the woman who held me, sang to me, loved me—was the same person he described? A witch who played with life like it was nothing? It didn't make sense. She didn't have any special powers. At least, I thought she didn't.
But then, I remembered something. On my birthday, she gave me a small charm. Could that have been it? Could that have been the key to all of this? The thought unsettled me, but I couldn't ignore it.
"Brat, are you ignoring me?"
Ignis's voice slithered into my mind, dripping with its usual venom.
I sighed internally. I'm not ignoring you.
"You're useless," he sneered. "Just like her."
I clenched my jaw. I didn't have to ask who he meant. My mother. He never passed up a chance to spit her name like poison.
Why do you hate her so much? I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
"Why?" His rage flared, burning hot in my chest. "That woman stole everything from me! My power, my freedom—she ripped me apart like I was nothing. A toy for her twisted little games."
That doesn't sound like her, I shot back. She wasn't like that. She was kind, she—
"You think you knew her?" Ignis snarled. "You saw a mother. I saw a monster. She laughed while she tore my heart out. And now I'm trapped in you, a weak, pathetic brat who doesn't even deserve it!"
I felt his fury boiling under my skin, but I was so damn tired of it. Years of this. Years of him spewing hatred, dragging my mother's name through the mud, and reminding me that he despised every second of our existence together.
And you think I like this? I snapped. You think I wanted to be stuck with you? You hate me? Fine. But we're both here, so get over it.
His growl rumbled through me like an earthquake. "I will break free, brat. And when I do—"
Yeah, yeah. I cut him off. You'll make me wish for death. Heard it before. Try something new.
He seethed in silence, but for once, he didn't respond. I'd won this round. Not that it mattered. The hatred between us wasn't going anywhere.
I pushed the thought aside as I saw Grandpa talking with Raphael and Sora. "Let's go inside," I said, gently pulling away from Lily's hug. She didn't seem to mind, just smiled and took my hand.
As we walked toward the cottage, she looked up at me, her eyes full of quiet determination. "I'm getting stronger too, you know."
I smirked. "We'll see about that."
She giggled, light and carefree. "Yes, we will."
"Humans and your ridiculous little games," Ignis muttered in disgust. "You waste your time with this nonsense instead of real battles."
You wouldn't understand, I replied, too used to his complaints to be annoyed.
"Never," he spat. "But enjoy it while it lasts, brat. The storm is coming."
Maybe it was. But as the warmth of home wrapped around me, the smell of stew in the air and the sound of laughter filling the space, I decided that, for now, I didn't care