Jin woke up early, before the sun was all the way up, and for once he didn't feel like he'd been hit by a truck.
He lay there for a minute, looking at the ceiling, testing himself. His ribs still ached, but only a little. His hands, when he flexed them, were stiff and pink and new, but they didn't hurt. Somewhere under his chest, he could feel the warm, steady presence Mirim had left there, quietly working. He hadn't healed this fast in a long time.
The gun was still sitting on the table beside his bed, next to the little stone lion.
He looked at it for a while. Then he got up, got dressed, picked it up, and went outside.
The training yard was empty at this hour. A few people on the night watch were walking the walls, and someone was already moving around in the kitchen, but otherwise the school was quiet and grey and cold. Jin's breath fogged in the air.
He started the way he always did, with nothing.
