Tifa's POV
The streets of Rivenden bustled around us, glowing in the early afternoon light. The sun filtered through high archways and leafy overhangs, dappling the cobblestone with warm patterns.
We'd parted ways with Irene and Dad not long ago—both of them heading off toward the Tenfold Hall for their meeting. That left the four of us—Slade, Ski, Kin, and me—to wander the city at our own pace.
It was strange how quickly things felt… familiar again.
Slade and Ski led the way, the two of them joking and tossing sarcastic jabs like it was just another walk home from the academy. Kin walked beside me, quiet as always, his eyes taking in every building, every passing merchant cart and chattering group of kids like he was seeing them for the first time—and in a way, I guessed he was.
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, watching the way the breeze ruffled his hair. Six years apart hadn't dulled that natural calm about him, though now there was something heavier in his gaze. Not a weight that came from fear, but from carrying something no one else could see.
Every time I looked at him, my heart skipped in this quiet, involuntary way I couldn't control. He was still the boy I knew... but not quite. Older, stronger. And maybe even more beautiful. I hated how easily my breath caught in my throat when he turned slightly, how even the silence between us felt comfortable.
Still… he was here. Walking beside me. After all this time.
I smiled softly to myself.
"You're staring," Kin said suddenly, his voice low but teasing.
"You're imagining things," I replied with a light tone, cheeks warming just slightly.
His lips curved into the smallest grin, and he looked back ahead. That smile—so familiar—sent a flutter through my chest I tried to ignore.
We walked a few more steps in silence before I spoke up again.
"It's really nice... all of us together again. Even if things are different now."
Kin nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's weird, though. Everyone remembers so much more than I do. Feels like I'm playing catch up."
I tilted my head. "You don't need to remember everything right away. Just being here... that means something. To me. To all of us."
He looked at me for a moment, and for a second, I could see the flicker of something softer in his eyes. Maybe recognition. Maybe something else.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
"Anytime," I replied, nudging him gently with my elbow. "But don't think that means I'll go easy on you in the Trials."
"Wouldn't expect you to," he said with a faint laugh.
I turned back to the road, but I could still feel his presence beside me, strong, steady, and real. For a long time, I didn't think we'd ever be in the same place again. And now that we were, even just walking down the street felt like something I'd missed more than I realized. I blushed faintly again without meaning to, and quickly looked forward.
Slade turned back toward us and grinned. "You two coming, or planning to take the long way back to memory lane?"
I rolled my eyes, but my smile didn't fade. "We're right behind you."
As we walked a little farther through the heart of Rivenden, conversation picked up again, light and scattered at first, until it turned into real catching up. Slade talked about life in the palace, how strict his instructors were, how his younger siblings wouldn't stop bothering him lately. Ski made jabs at him the whole time, calling him a "royal brat" and laughing every time he tried to defend himself.
Kin chimed in here and there, but mostly listened. I could tell he was taking it all in. It made my heart ache in a quiet way. We really had missed out on years.
At one point, I mentioned one of our old hideouts near the academy gardens, and Slade groaned loudly. "Don't remind me. That place still smells like burnt herbs from the time Kin tried to cook."
"I tried to cook?" Kin muttered.
"You absolutely did," Ski snorted. "It was like... herbal ash soup."
Kin shook his head but allowed a small grin to slip through. "You still ate it I bet."
"I was trying to be nice," she said with a shrug. "Didn't want to hurt your feelings. You were a crybaby back then."
"Sure."
"You cried when you got a splinter," Slade added with a laugh.
"I was six," Kin said, shaking his head.
I laughed softly at the exchange, unable to stop myself. My gaze lingered on Kin. He really hadn't changed that much. Maybe quieter, maybe a little more serious—but when he smiled like that, I felt that same skip in my chest I used to get all those years ago.
Their teasing went on a bit longer, warmth building between us. The kind of warmth only childhood friends can share.
Then, in that same easy tone she always used to slide in awkward questions, Ski turned to Kin. "So... what's the earliest thing you can actually remember?"
Slade's grin immediately faded. "Ski—"
I shot Ski a quick look, my brows pulling together. "That's kind of personal, isn't it?"
Ski raised both hands, smirking. "Just curious, that's all. Don't bite my head off."
Slade let out a quiet sigh but said nothing more.
I gave Ski a side-eye, but Kin just gave a small shake of his head, that same calm expression settling over his face. "It's fine," he said, voice steady.
The tension eased just a bit, but I still gave Ski a subtle nudge with my elbow. She stuck her tongue out at me playfully in return, then turned her attention back to Kin with a raised brow, silently waiting.
Kin looked up at the rooftops ahead, eyes tracing the lines of the buildings as if they held some secret answer. "I think... maybe it was a swing. Wooden. Worn down by time. There was this park just outside the city, and I remember sitting on the swing, watching the sunset. I don't remember who was with me, or why I was there... but I remember how it felt."
His voice dropped a little, almost a whisper. "It felt like I was waiting for someone."
My chest tightened slightly, hearing that. There was something fragile in his tone, something buried deep under all the strength he wore now. I looked over at him again, my fingers brushing lightly against my side. A faint warmth bloomed in my cheeks. Just seeing him like this—honest, trying—it pulled something out of me I hadn't realized I'd been holding in.
Slade glanced back at Kin, then to me, and for a second, his usual playful expression softened.
Ski, for all her teasing, seemed to hesitate, her smirk faltering. "That's... kinda poetic, actually," she muttered.
"Maybe I've got more depth than you thought," Kin said, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.
Ski rolled her eyes. "Don't push it," she said, though there was a faint grin tugging at the corners of her lips.
I laughed softly at that and glanced at Kin. His gaze met mine for just a breath—and my heart did that thing again. I quickly looked away, cheeks warm again despite myself.
We didn't say anything more for a while
The streets of Rivenden began to shift from market stalls and stone alleys to quiet, shaded roads lined with walled estates and ivy-covered brick homes. The buzz of the crowd had dimmed into a calm, punctuated only by the distant hum of bells and birdsong.
Slade led the way, his hands tucked behind his head as he walked with casual ease, Ski beside him still tossing off the occasional jab that he mostly ignored. Kin walked next to me again, quiet, his eyes moving from house to house as if searching for something just out of reach.
We rounded a gentle corner, continuing our walk through one of the quieter districts of the capital. The city had a comforting rhythm to it, the kind that lingered in old memories, half-forgotten but never gone.
Slade slowed his pace a little and looked back at Kin. "So," he began, an easy grin on his face, "how'd your first trial go?"
Kin blinked, then looked up at Slade with a small, tired smile. "It was… intense."
"Oh?" Ski tilted her head, clearly intrigued. "What happened?"
Kin exhaled slowly, as if just talking about it brought the weight of it back to his shoulders. "It happened on the train. I heard this thudding noise coming from one of the cars behind us, and when I went to check it out… there was this man. Or… I don't know if he was really a man. He was slamming his head into the floor, completely gone. When he turned and looked at me, his face—his eyes—they were glowing. Frenzied. Like he wasn't even human anymore."
"What did you do?" Slade asked, eyes narrowing.
"I fought him," Kin said plainly. "Didn't have much of a choice. He was fast—erratic. At first, I could keep up. Blocked most of his hits, landed a few of my own, but the longer it went on, the harder it got. He didn't stop. No technique, just pure rage. I tried to use my Dark Matter, but… I couldn't. He kept pushing me. Wouldn't let me breathe."
Ski's brow furrowed. "You couldn't use your Matter?"
Kin shook his head. "Not at first. It was like every time I reached for it, he'd hit me harder. Like he knew. But eventually… I found his rhythm. He had this pattern to his movements. I waited, let him think he had me, then countered. Landed a clean hit. After that, he just… disappeared. Like he was never there."
There was a moment of silence.
"Damn," Slade muttered. "That's heavy for your first test."
Kin shrugged. "It was. But I passed."
Ski gave him a small smirk. "Of course you did."
I looked over at Kin, noticing the way his eyes stayed fixed ahead. The way he spoke about it, calm and measured, he didn't hide the truth—it had scared him.
But he was still standing. Still moving forward.
That's who Kin is.
I glanced at him again, noticing how his gaze had turned almost distant. My fingers curled lightly at my side.
"Hey, Kin?" I asked gently, tilting my head. "Can I ask something? About your Matter?"
He looked at me, then gave a soft nod. "Sure."
"I remember when we were younger… you unlocked your Dark Matter. But it always seemed like it hurt you more than helped. I remember you getting nosebleeds, even collapsing sometimes. Does it still do that?"
His lips twitched slightly, and he let out a slow breath. "Yeah. It used to be like that all the time. Like I was trying to carry something I wasn't meant to hold. Every time I used it, it felt like it was tearing me apart."
I nodded slowly. That lined up with the boy I remembered—stubborn, driven, and always pushing himself harder than he should.
"But… something's different now?" Slade asked, cutting in gently.
Kin reached down and touched the ring on his finger. The faint glint of crimson caught the light as he turned it slightly. "Xaviar gave me this. Said it would help stabilize it. So far… it's been working. It helps me control the output. Keeps the backlash in check."
Ski leaned in a bit, clearly fascinated. "So it's like a limiter? That's wild."
Kin nodded. "Something like that. It doesn't make the Matter easier to use, exactly. Just more manageable. I still have to be careful. If I push it too far, I'll break before the Matter does."
Slade grinned and took a step ahead, holding out his hand. From his palm, light gathered and shimmered into form—an elegant, glowing sword materializing with a faint hum. He spun it once in his grip before pointing it toward Kin with a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Well, since you're still in one piece… how about a quick spar? For old time's sake. Let's see if you remember anything from our lessons."
Kin raised an eyebrow, but the corners of his mouth tugged into a subtle smile. "You sure you want to get embarrassed in front of everyone like that?"
Ski groaned dramatically, stepping over to the edge of the street with her hands shoved deep into her pockets. "You two are seriously the worst sometimes," she muttered. "Always ready to swing swords the second someone breathes too hard."
I let out a sigh, though the fondness in my voice was impossible to hide. "You know how they are. It's like muscle memory at this point."
We walked together to a shaded spot near a shop wall, just far enough to stay out of the way but close enough to see every move. The street had started to slow as people noticed Slade summoning a weapon right in the open. Curious glances turned to lingering stares, and soon a small group had begun to form, murmuring among themselves.
I glanced toward Kin as he took position across from Slade. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair and made the crimson on his ring glint faintly, just like the blade in Slade's hand. They stood facing each other, still and silent.
The breeze picked up ever so slightly, rustling the hems of their clothes.
Kin's posture straightened as he took a calm breath. The slight tension I'd seen in his shoulders melted away, replaced with a quiet composure that made my chest tighten for reasons I didn't entirely understand. I swallowed and looked away, watching Slade instead.
Slade's grin widened, and he took a step forward. "I'm not the one who used to trip over his own feet during training, remember? Come on, you and me, just like when we were kids. No high-stakes test this time. Just you, me, and a friendly duel."
Kin's faint smile returned, and I felt my heart skip again. But then, something shifted.
He took a slow breath and stepped forward, his fingers reaching up to his hair. I blinked as I watched the white strands begin to fade—deepening into an obsidian black that shimmered faintly under the sunlight. His smile remained, but his eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
"You better not hold back, Slade."
The wind around us changed.
When he opened his eyes, they weren't the same as before. A vibrant violet hue had overtaken them—deep, rich, and impossibly bright.
Gasps echoed from the forming crowd. Some of the bystanders instinctively stepped back, caught off guard by the sudden shift in atmosphere.
Kin exhaled slowly. He rolled his shoulders once, loosening his arms, and then lowered into his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low, unwavering, and laced with quiet intensity.
"I'm going all out."
Black lightning danced around his fingertips, crackling up his arms as the shadows seemed to pull inward toward him.
My heart skipped again, but not from nostalgia or affection. This time it was something else.
Awe.