The rhythmic hum of the train filled the cabin, a steady undercurrent to the passing scenery outside. Mei sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the golden hues of the setting sun met the darkening sky.
The faint reflection of her face in the glass stared back, calm but thoughtful, as her mind wandered to the place she had just left behind.
The dojo. Her sanctuary. Her refuge.
It was strange how quickly time had passed. She took up teaching at the dojo on a whim, an activity she thought she would enjoy.
One moment, she was teaching students the basics of kendo, going through the motions in a life that felt repetitive. The next, she was on a train, on the way to become a Valkyrie, leaving behind the place where so many memories had been made.
The dojo wasn't always a haven for her. When she first started assisting her instructors there, it had been… dull. Predictable. Most of the students weren't serious about learning. They were there for shallow reasons, some to impress her, others hoping her skill would somehow rub off on them without effort.
Mei sighed, leaning her head against the cool glass. Those days had felt so monotonous. It was as if she were stuck in an endless loop, correcting stances, listening to excuses, enduring the awkward advances of the occasional overconfident rich kid.
One of them, she recalled, had walked into the dojo with a bouquet of roses, claiming he'd heard she was a prodigy. Mei had accepted the flowers with a polite smile and promptly handed them to her instructor. The embarrassment on the boy's face still made her chuckle, though at the time, it had only added to her frustration.
Then there were the arrogant ones—the students who thought they were already skilled enough to be champions. They treated the dojo like a stage for their egos, expecting her to validate their inflated opinions of themselves.
She remembered one in particular who had boasted about his regional kendo trophies, only to quit after two weeks when Mei knocked him flat during a demonstration.
It wasn't that she disliked teaching. She loved kendo, loved its discipline, its structure, its beauty. But back then, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
And then Kenji walked in.
The memory of that day was as clear as if it had happened yesterday. He had shuffled into the dojo late in the afternoon, his shoulders slightly hunched, his gaze darting around the room like he wasn't quite sure he belonged there.
At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about him. His posture was stiff, his movements awkward, and his eyes carried a weariness that Mei had seen countless times before in other students.
She'd barely paid him any attention at first, dismissing him as another face that would likely disappear after a few weeks. But as the days turned into weeks, she began to notice something different about him.
Unlike the others, Kenji didn't complain when the training got tough. He didn't cut corners, didn't look for excuses to slack off. Instead, he threw himself into every practice with a determination that caught Mei off guard. He didn't just want to get stronger, he needed to. It was in the way his jaw clenched when he missed a strike, the way his muscles trembled from exhaustion but never gave out.
That fire in his eyes… it was something Mei hadn't seen in a long time. And once she saw it, she couldn't ignore it.
From that moment, she decided to focus on him more. She pushed him harder than anyone else, critiquing every misstep, every flaw, with a sharpness that made even the more seasoned students wince.
She demanded perfection from him, drilling him relentlessly, refusing to let him coast through even a single session.
At first, she was afraid that she might scare him off. Most students would have balked under the pressure, complained about the unfairness of her scrutiny, or simply stopped showing up. But not Kenji.
He absorbed every correction like a sponge, his movements becoming sharper, his strikes more precise. He endured every grueling drill, his body pushed to its limits and beyond. And every time he walked into the dojo, he came back stronger.
Watching him grow filled Mei with a sense of pride she hadn't felt in a long time. Kenji's progress wasn't just a testament to his dedication, it was a reflection of her own efforts as a teacher. For the first time, she felt like she was finally able to help someone through teaching.
It wasn't long before their relationship shifted. What started as a strict teacher-student dynamic evolved into something more.
They began talking after practice, sharing small snippets of their lives outside the dojo. Mei found herself opening up in ways she hadn't expected, drawn to Kenji's dry humor and quiet determination.
And then Kiana entered the picture.
Mei chuckled softly, her breath fogging the glass of the train window. Turning her head to look beside her at Kiana, who was surprisingly fast asleep.
Kiana's arrival at the dojo had been like a whirlwind, her energy so boundless it felt almost overwhelming at first. The girl was loud, brash, and completely unafraid to speak her mind, qualities that clashed with Mei's calm, measured demeanor.
But somehow, it worked. Kiana brought a liveliness to the dojo that neither Mei nor Kenji had realized they were missing. The three of them quickly became an inseparable trio, their bond solidified through countless shared experiences.
Mei smiled at the memory of Kiana dragging them to the movies. It had been a horror film, one of those cheesy ones with over-the-top jump scares. Mei had watched it with her usual composure, while Kiana laughed at the absurdity of it all.
But Kenji… oh, Kenji.
Mei's smile widened as she remembered how he had nearly leapt out of his seat at least half a dozen times. Screaming and trying to cover his eyes with his hands as Kiana pried them off, making sure he saw every second of the movie.
Kiana had teased him relentlessly afterward, mimicking his startled reactions with exaggerated gestures. Even Mei, who rarely indulged in teasing, had joined in, her laughter spilling out uncontrollably.
Then there was the festival. That night had been perfect. Wandering through the glowing streets of Nagazora, sharing food, playing games, laughing together, it had felt like a dream. For the first time in years, Mei felt like a normal teenager, free from the weight of expectations and responsibilities.
But life wasn't always so kind.
When her father was arrested for 'economic fraud' , Mei's world crumbled. The whispers started almost immediately. judgmental murmurs from classmates, strangers, and even people she had once considered friends. They looked at her differently, as though she carried the sins of her father on her shoulders.
It was suffocating. The weight of their stares, the venom in their words, it all threatened to crush her. For a while, she thought she might break under the pressure.
But Kiana was always there to help her. Kiana, who stood by her side with unwavering loyalty, brushing off the rumors and insults with a grin that dared anyone to challenge her. Mei didn't know what she would have done without her.
And then there was Kenji.
At first, she had braced herself for him to distance himself, to retreat like so many others had. But when she'd mentioned her father's arrest in passing, his response had been so casual it was almost laughable.
"Wait, your dad got arrested?" he'd asked, blinking in genuine confusion.
"You didn't know?" Mei had replied, half-expecting him to walk away after hearing the news.
"Nope. Should I have?"
Kiana had burst into laughter, and Mei couldn't help but join in. Kenji, completely oblivious to the gossip surrounding her, had treated her the same as always. It was such a small thing, but it meant more to her than she could put into words.
The train jolted slightly as it rounded a bend, pulling Mei back to the present. She shifted in her seat, her gaze lingering on the horizon. The memories were bittersweet now, tinged with the ache of leaving it all behind.
Kenji had become more than just a student to her. He was a friend, someone she respected, someone she believed in. And now, as she embarked on this new chapter of her life, she couldn't help but wonder what the future held for him.
He had so much potential, so much drive. She didn't know where his path would lead, but she was certain of one thing: Kenji was destined for something extraordinary.
As the train began to slow, the first lights of her future came into view. Mei sat up straighter, her heart steady but her resolve unwavering. She didn't know when or how, but she knew she would see Kenji again.
And when that day came, she had no doubt he would be stronger, sharper, and more determined than ever.
For now, though, it was her turn to move forward.