I wasn't really being her protector but someone who just made sure she didn't get hurt...which if I reason with is exactly what a protector is. "Well you didn't have Aura so fighting Grimm like that is quiet dumb."
Tukson pouted, an expression which I find slightly cute. "You don't have Aura too so how exactly were you protecting me?!!."
"I just lured them away and ambushed them in the dark with small attacks and you also don't have Aura which gives you no reason to question me and plus if I wasn't there, you would have gotten far more hurt than gaining small bruises." I said, my voice truthful.
Tukson's pout deepened, her bat ears twitching in annoyance. "Small bruises? I've been building character! And—and experience!" She gestured wildly, nearly knocking over a tray of cooling bread. "You can't just—without aura, you could have died!"
"So could you," I pointed out calmly.
"That's different!"
"How?"
"Because I—" She faltered, her amber eyes flashing with frustration. "Because I'm supposed to be getting stronger! I'm supposed to be—" Her voice cracked slightly. "I need to be strong enough so that what happened to Dad never happens to anyone I care about again."
The raw honesty in her words hung in the air. Mrs. Xiong moved toward her daughter, but Tukson held up a hand, taking a shaky breath to compose herself.
"And you," she said, turning back to me with that same mixture of frustration and something else—something that looked almost like concern. "You've been doing all this without aura, without training, apparently without any sense of self-preservation, and you never even talked to me about it. We live in the same house!"
"You sleep all day," I said.
That seemed to have shut her down a bit. "I'm Nocturnal, I don't function well in the day?! And that isn't an excuse not to talk to me."
I smiled gently and looked away from her. "Well i couldn't just come into your room, I like respecting other people's privacy."
I could hear her sputter indignantly behind me, her bat ears flicking in rapid succession—a tell I'd learned meant she was flustered.
"Privacy?! You followed me into the forest at night! That's basically the opposite of privacy!"
"That was for your safety," I corrected, still not looking at her. "Your room is your personal space. There's a difference."
"That doesn't even—you can't just—" Tukson made a noise of pure frustration. "You're impossible!"
Mrs. Xiong's gentle laughter cut through the tension. "You two really are quite the pair." She moved between us, one hand on my shoulder, the other reaching for her daughter. "But Tukson, dear, Chara is right about one thing. Neither of you should have been doing this alone. Which is why—" she gave Tukson a meaningful look, "—you're both enrolling at Signal Academy."
Tukson's eyes widened. "Both of us?"
"Both of you," Mrs. Xiong confirmed firmly. "If you're both so determined to walk the path of a Huntsman, then you'll do it properly. With real training, real instruction, and—" her voice softened, "—with each other. No more sneaking around. No more fighting alone in the dark."
I watched Tukson's expression shift through several emotions—surprise, uncertainty, and then something that looked almost like... hope?
"Really? I thought you didn't want me becoming a Huntress." She replied with a questioning gaze.
Mrs. Xiong's expression softened, her panda ears drooping slightly as she cupped Tukson's face with both hands. "I never said I didn't want you to become a Huntress, sweetheart. I said I was scared. There's a difference."
She pulled her daughter into a gentle embrace, speaking over her shoulder. "Your father was brave. He was skilled. He was everything a Huntsman should be." Her voice wavered just slightly. "And he still didn't come home. That's what terrified me—the thought that no matter how strong you became, I might still lose you the same way."
Tukson's arms slowly wrapped around her mother, her face buried in Mrs. Xiong's shoulder.
"But watching you sneak out night after night, throwing yourself at danger without proper training, without aura, without anyone to watch your back..." Mrs. Xiong pulled back to look her daughter in the eyes. "That was worse. At least if you're trained properly, if you have teammates, if you have support—you'll have a real chance."
She glanced at me, something grateful flickering in her gaze. "And it seems you already have someone watching your back, even if you were both too stubborn to actually talk to each other about it."
Tukson peeked at me from her mother's embrace, her expression complicated. "Signal Academy starts next semester, doesn't it?"
"In three months," Mrs. Xiong confirmed. "Which gives us time to get Chara's aura settled, help you both prepare, and—" she raised an eyebrow at Tukson, "—maybe actually have a conversation or two? Like normal people who live in the same house?"
I felt a small smile tug at my lips. "That seems reasonable."
Tukson huffed, finally pulling away from her mother and crossing her arms again, though the defensive gesture seemed less hostile now. "Fine. But if we're going to be... whatever this is... training partners, I guess—" she looked away, her ears flicking nervously, "—then you have to actually tell me things. No more just silently following me around like some kind of... ghost."
The word hit closer than she probably intended. Seven lifetimes of being an observer, a presence lingering at the edges of other people's stories.
"I can do that," I said quietly. Then, testing the waters of actual honesty: "Though you should know, your stance when you use that branch as a practice weapon is too wide. It leaves your left side exposed."
Tukson's head whipped around, her face flushing again. "You—! How long were you watching?!"
"Most nights for the past eight months."
"EIGHT MONTHS?!"
Mrs. Xiong laughed—a real, genuine laugh that filled the bakery with warmth. "Oh yes, you two are definitely going to make interesting teammates. Now—" she clapped her hands together, "—Tukson, go make yourself presentable and we'll talk about unlocking your aura. Chara, finish with those loaves. And then we're all having breakfast together. Like a family."
The word hung in the air.
Family.
I'd had one of those before. Maybe. The memories were still fragmented, still painful in ways I couldn't fully articulate. Someone who'd called me their child. Someone I'd... hurt? Killed?
But maybe that was the point of seven lifetimes. Maybe each one was a chance to do things differently.
Tukson was still sputtering about the eight months comment as she stomped back toward the stairs, but I noticed she paused at the doorway, glancing back at me.
"My stance isn't that bad," she muttered.
"It's improved significantly," I offered. "Three months ago it was much worse."
She made another frustrated noise but there was something almost pleased in her expression before she disappeared up the stairs.
Mrs. Xiong moved back to her dough, humming again, but there was a lightness to it now. "You're good for her, you know. She needs someone her own age. Someone who understands what it means to carry something heavy."
I picked up the bread knife again, feeling the weight of it. Seven lifetimes. Seven different versions of myself. And now, maybe, a chance at an eighth one that could be different.
"Mrs. Xiong?" I asked quietly.
"Hm?"
"Thank you. For... unlocking my aura. For letting me stay here. For—" I struggled with the words. "For treating me like I belong."
She paused in her kneading, turning to look at me with eyes that held too much understanding. "Oh, Chara. You do belong. You always did. You just needed to believe it yourself."
I paused and smiled, I guess I should live a bit more peacefully in this life. Maybe i will learn to protect my new family.
Maybe I will finally find peace in this world.
I continued working on the loaves, the rhythmic motion of the knife through bread oddly meditative. My newly awakened aura hummed beneath my skin, that strange crimson-and-shadow energy responding to my emotions in ways I was still learning to understand.
"Chara," Mrs. Xiong said after a moment, her tone shifting to something more serious. "Before Tukson comes back down, there's something you should know about Signal Academy."
I glanced up, catching the concern in her expression.
"It's not just about combat training. They'll push you—both of you—to discover your semblances. Your unique ability born from your aura." She wiped her hands on her apron, choosing her words carefully. "Most people's semblances reflect something fundamental about who they are. Their personality, their experiences, their soul."
"You're worried about what mine might be," I said quietly.
"I'm worried," she admitted, "that whatever you're carrying from your past—whatever those shadows in your aura represent—might manifest in ways that are difficult for you. Or difficult for others to understand."
She walked over, her voice gentle. "Some semblances are... complicated. They can reveal things about ourselves we're not ready to share."
I set down the knife, looking at my hands. The crimson aura flickered briefly across my palms, dark threads weaving through it like cracks in glass.
"I don't remember everything," I confessed. "Just... fragments. Feelings. The weight of choices I made. People I—" my voice caught, "—people I hurt. Maybe people I loved. It's all tangled up together."
Mrs. Xiong placed a hand on my shoulder, grounding me. "Then we'll face it together. You, me, and Tukson. Whatever your semblance turns out to be, you won't be alone in dealing with it."
The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew our attention. Tukson emerged, having changed into proper clothes—dark pants and a sleeveless shirt that showed the toned muscles she'd developed from months of secret training. Her black and white hair was hastily brushed, and her bat ears were perked forward with a mixture of nervousness and determination.
"Okay," she announced, trying for confidence but not quite hiding her anxiety. "I'm ready. For the aura thing. And—" she glanced at me briefly before looking away, "—and for breakfast. As a family. Or whatever."
The 'or whatever' was so transparently defensive that I couldn't help the small smile that crossed my face. "Are you sure you can stay awake through the day."
Her lips twitched and she glared at me. "Hmph I can...maybe...okay fine, after three hours I usually get sleepy."
"It's not something to be ashamed of, everyone has their little quirks." I said with a smile.
She narrowed her eyes and pointed at me. "What's yours then?."
"I like sugar." I said simply.
Tukson blinked, clearly expecting something more dramatic. "That's... that's it? You like sugar?"
"Very much," I confirmed. "Chocolate especially. And anything sweet, really."
Mrs. Xiong laughed softly. "Oh, I've noticed. You always volunteer to frost the cakes and somehow a suspicious amount goes missing during the process."
I felt my face warm slightly—an unusual sensation. "The frosting needs to be tested. For quality control."
"Uh-huh," Tukson said, a small smirk forming despite herself. "Quality control. Is that what we're calling it?" Some of the tension had left her shoulders, and I realized that was exactly why Mrs. Xiong had steered the conversation this way.
After a bit of bickering with Tukson, we had breakfast and then her mom awakened her aura, it glowed a faint Violet before fading into her skin.
Despite obtaining Aura, she was able to stay awake for two more hours from her original three and had to return to her room sleep.
I also returned to my room, which was a small guest room and the moment I sat on my bed, I sighed gently and laid down on the bed. "A weapon....a Knife should be good but the people of this world have strange tastes so a weapon that is both melee and ranged seems much suitable, a knife gun sounds stupid though...maybe."