I woke to the sounds of hushed voices and hurried footsteps. Sunlight streamed through the window slats, casting golden lines across my blanket. For a moment, I lay still, trying to remember why today felt different.
Then it hit me. Renji was leaving.
I bolted upright, nearly tumbling from my sleeping mat. The pendant I'd been given during the Festival of Storms slipped from around my neck, and I hastily tucked it back beneath my sleeping clothes. Today wasn't about me. Today was about my brother.
Outside my room, the house hummed with activity. Mom's booming laugh echoed from Renji's room, followed by Mother's gentler tones offering practical advice about mainland weather. I lingered in the doorway, watching as they helped him organize his belongings.
Renji stood in the center of the controlled chaos, looking simultaneously older and younger than his sixteen years. His blue skin seemed paler in the morning light, his navy tattoos glowing faintly as he methodically folded his clothes.
"The scroll cases go in the oiled satchel," Mother reminded him, handing over a leather bag. "The humidity on the crossing can damage your study materials."
"And don't forget the fighting wraps I made you," Mom added, tossing a bundle of crimson cloth onto his pack. "Mainland instructors think technique beats raw power. Show them what Demonblood warriors are made of!"
Renji adjusted his glasses with a slight smile. "I'll remember."
I shifted my weight, and the floorboard creaked beneath me. Three pairs of eyes turned in my direction.
"The little spy awakens," Renji said, his usually serious face softening.
"I'm not spying," I protested. "I'm supervising."
Mom snorted with laughter, ruffling my sleep-tousled hair as she passed. "Supervise from the kitchen table, tiny ember. Breakfast is getting cold."
I lingered a moment longer, watching Renji carefully place a small book of family sketches into his pack. When he caught me looking, he quickly sealed the bag.
"What?" he asked, feigning irritation.
"Nothing," I mumbled, turning away. "Just making sure you don't forget anything important."
Like us, I didn't say.
After breakfast, Renji found me sitting on the porch steps, tracing patterns in the dirt with a stick.
"Come here," he said, beckoning me to follow him to the side of the house.
I trailed after him, curious. Renji rarely sought me out directly—he usually showed affection through quiet gestures, like leaving interesting stones or scrolls where I would find them.
"I have something for you," he said, kneeling to my height. "Arms up."
I raised my arms, and he lifted me onto his shoulders in one smooth motion. I squealed in surprise, grabbing his head for balance.
"You won't be able to do this much longer," he said, spinning me around. "Soon you'll be too big. Maybe even taller than me."
"No one's taller than you," I laughed, though we both knew that wasn't true. Renji was tall for a Blue Oni, but not exceptionally so.
"Rika will be disappointed when she comes home and finds I've grown three feet," I added, imagining my sister's face.
Renji chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into my legs. "She'll just use you for target practice from further away."
He set me down gently and reached into his pocket. "Here. I made this for you."
In his palm lay a wooden pendant, carved into the shape of an eight-pointed star. The wood was stained deep blue on one half and rich red on the other, the colors swirling together at the center.
"It's a protection charm," he explained, looping the leather cord over my head. "I put a little magic in it—nothing fancy, just enough to let me know if you're ever in real trouble."
I touched the pendant reverently. "You made this?"
He nodded, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Mother helped with the enchantment part."
"Thank you," I whispered, clutching it tightly.
"Don't lose it," he said gruffly, standing up. "And don't tell Mom I gave you something sentimental. She'll never let me hear the end of it."
The village square buzzed with excitement as we arrived. It seemed everyone had come to see Renji off, just as they had for Rika three years earlier. Blue and Red Oni mingled freely, a testament to the unity our parents had helped forge between the clans.
The village elder stood at the center, his ancient face creased in a proud smile as he caught sight of Renji. Beside him stood Captain Takeda, who would escort the departing students to the mainland.
"Young Renji," the elder called, "step forward and receive the village blessing."
Renji moved forward, his back straight and his expression solemn. The elder placed a hand on his shoulder.
"The Academy of Arcane Studies will be honored to receive you, as they were honored to receive your sister before you. Rika brings pride to our village with her accomplishments, and now you shall follow in that tradition."
I swallowed hard at the mention of Rika. Letters came rarely from the mainland, but when they did, they were filled with tales of her victories in combat tournaments and the respect she commanded among her peers.
"Two children from one family, both showing such promise," murmured a nearby villager. "The mixed bloodline has created something special."
I pretended not to hear, but my chest tightened with both pride and pressure.
After the blessing, families were given time for final goodbyes. Mother embraced Renji first, whispering something in his ear that made him nod solemnly. Mom followed, lifting him off his feet in a bone-crushing hug that made even Renji laugh.
Then it was my turn.
"I'm used to this now," I said, forcing a smile. "First Rika, now you. It's fine."
Renji raised an eyebrow, clearly not fooled by my brave act.
"Is that so?" he asked.
"Completely fine," I insisted, though my voice betrayed me with a slight quiver.
Mom placed a gentle hand on my head, her warmth seeping into my scalp. She didn't speak, but her touch said everything: It's okay to be sad.
Renji knelt before me, his usually reserved expression open and warm. "Next time we meet, I expect you to be stronger than me," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
I nodded fiercely, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "I will be."
He pulled me into a tight hug, and I buried my face against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of ink and frost that always clung to him.
"Take care of our mothers," he whispered. "They're stronger than anyone, but they still need looking after."
"I promise," I said, my voice muffled against his tunic.
All too soon, Captain Takeda called for the departing students to board the ship. Renji stood, adjusted his pack, and with one last look at our family, turned and walked toward the harbor.
I watched until the ship became a speck on the horizon, my hand clutched around the wooden pendant.
The house felt emptier than ever that evening. Mother busied herself with scrollwork, while Mom aggressively chopped vegetables for dinner, her knife striking the cutting board with unnecessary force.
I slipped out unnoticed, making my way to my training spot—a small clearing near the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. The same spot where Rika had first shown me how to throw a proper punch, where Renji had demonstrated the basics of focusing magical energy.
Now it was just me.
I began with the basic forms Mother had taught me, moving through the stances with careful precision. Too slow. I tried again, faster this time. Sloppy. Again. My frustration mounted with each attempt.
Switching tactics, I practiced the striking combinations Mom had shown me, punching and kicking at an imaginary opponent. My small fists cut through the air, each impact accompanied by the short, controlled breath she had drilled into me.
"Power comes from your center," I heard her voice in my memory. "Not just your arms or legs."
I pushed harder, sweat beading on my forehead despite the cool evening air. In my mind's eye, I saw Rika demonstrating a perfect spinning kick, Renji creating an ice barrier with just a flick of his fingers.
How could I ever catch up to them?
Hours passed. The sun began its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in fiery oranges and deep purples. My limbs felt like lead, my lungs burned, and still I pushed.
One more form. One more strike. One more—
My legs finally gave out, and I collapsed onto the grass, panting heavily. The tears I'd been holding back all day finally spilled over, running hot down my cheeks.
"It's not fair," I whispered to no one. "How am I supposed to be as good as both of them?"
As my breathing slowed, I noticed a large, flat stone near my usual training stump. I crawled toward it, pulling the small carving knife I always carried from my belt.
With careful, deliberate strokes, I etched "Rika" into the stone's surface. Beneath it, I added "Renji." The characters were clumsy but readable.
I left a space below their names.
Standing the stone upright, I placed it carefully at the edge of my training area. Then I removed Renji's pendant from around my neck and set it gently beside the stone.
"I'll catch up," I promised, my voice stronger now despite my exhaustion. "Just wait for me."
The wind rustled through the grass, carrying my vow out to sea—toward the mainland, toward my siblings, toward my future.