Morning filtered in through thin cream-colored curtains, casting a dappled glow across the quiet living room. Kazen sat on the couch, his half-drunk tea forgotten beside him, as silence wrapped the home. The hum of the city floated in from the closed windows, a gentle reminder of a world still in motion. But within these walls, time felt slower, heavier.

  He stood, brushing the creases from his shirt, and walked toward the bedroom he hadn’t entered since the funeral.

  The door creaked open quietly—Lira’s and his shared room, left mostly untouched since she’d passed away over a year ago. A faint scent of her vender perfume lingered, hidden in the folds of the curtains or buried in the fabric of old clothes. The bed was still neatly made. Her scarf still hung on the hook behind the door. Kazen’s breath caught as he stepped inside.

  He moved to the small wooden dresser in the corner—hers. The top drawer still held her makeup pouch, a broken hairbrush, a small cracked hand mirror. When he reached the bottom drawer, something tugged at his fingertips. Nestled beneath a neatly folded nightgown, he found it—a sealed white envelope with “Kazen” written in Lira’s delicate handwriting.

  His fingers trembled as he broke the seal.

  “My dear Kazen, if you're reading this, I’m gone. I didn’t want to leave you—not you, not Rei or Nia. But if fate decided this, then I needed to make sure you remembered something: you were always enough. Even on the days you doubted yourself, even when work buried you in silence—I saw you. I saw the way you loved us, even when you couldn’t say it out loud.”

  “Please remember to hold Rei’s hand when she feels alone. She’s going to need your warmth. She’s going to be afraid of her strength. Remind her what I said when she was born: ‘She will shine like the moon in winter—soft, quiet, and beautiful, even in the coldest night.’ And Nia—our little storm. Let her ugh. Let her run. Just... be there, Kazen. That’s all they need.”

  His throat tightened. Tears spilled freely, dotting the paper. He sat there, letter in hand, and for a long time, did nothing else.

  There were two more envelopes in the drawer. One beled “Rei.” One beled “Nia.” He touched them gently, not opening either—just resting his palm against them.

  “Not yet,” he whispered. “But soon.”

  Later that afternoon, Kazen picked up his coat, cleaned his face, and checked the time. Still early for pickup. Good.

  He went into the spare room—his new workspace—and brought out a notepad. With deliberate strokes, he started drafting a training pn for Rei. Something that didn’t pressure her. That allowed room for discovery, but would nudge her toward growth. She had an AA-rank core, after all—something he had never even seen personally, let alone held in his own body. And yet she hesitated even to spark magic in css.

  He thought of his own struggles—his past lives as a magic knight. The rigorous drills, the grueling pressure. That would never work for her. He’d be firm, yes—but not cruel. Not cold. She didn’t need a general. She needed her father.

  He smiled faintly as he jotted down a few simple tasks: breathing control, light mana shaping, core meditation. Add a little wand py—he still had the toy wand Lira bought when Rei was three. He'd never used it. Maybe now was the time.

  At pickup time, the girls rushed toward him as expected. Nia pounced with her usual cheer, while Rei gave him a small nod—barely perceptible, but it was there.

  Back home, Kazen cpped his hands once. “Alright, girls. Training time.”

  Rei blinked. “Training?”

  He knelt beside her. “Yes. I made something just for you. Your own magic training pn. Nothing too hard, I promise.”

  Nia raised her hand immediately. “Me too! I wanna do it too!”

  Kazen raised a brow. “You sure?”

  “Yeah! I wanna be strong like you!”

  “Alright,” he said, pretending to think hard. “But there’s a catch.”

  Nia squinted. “What catch?”

  “No treats for you if you skip any part of the schedule I give you.”

  Nia froze, gasped dramatically, then stomped her foot. “That’s so mean, Daddy!”

  “That’s the contract,” he said, standing tall with mock seriousness. “Do you accept?”

  “Fineee,” Nia grumbled. “But I want two choco breads if I finish!”

  “Deal.”

  They trained in the backyard. The sun was soft in the te afternoon sky, casting golden warmth over the grass.

  Rei stood with her wand, Kazen’s handwritten schedule in her other hand. She looked unsure at first. But when Kazen stood behind her and gently corrected her posture, she didn’t flinch. She just… listened.

  “Your mana is like breath,” he said softly. “It flows where your will guides it. But it’s not a hammer. It’s a whisper.”

  Rei nodded. She took a slow breath and focused.

  And for the first time, the faint outline of a shimmering sphere appeared in her palm—wobbly, flickering, but undeniably magic.

  Kazen smiled. “That’s it. Keep it steady.”

  From the corner, Nia tried to summon her own sphere with a triumphant yell—and instead made her wand shoot a spark into her own hair.

  “Ahhh! My hair!!” she screamed, filing dramatically.

  Kazen bit back ughter. Rei, startled, actually giggled aloud.

  Just a little.

  It was the most beautiful sound he’d heard in months.

  Dinner was pancakes, made from scratch. He added a pinch of cinnamon—Lira’s old trick—and set the table with careful bance.

  Nia poured syrup like she was preparing a sugar flood.

  “Daddy! Look! It’s a syrup mountain!”

  Kazen nodded solemnly. “An architectural marvel.”

  Rei, meanwhile, poured a modest amount of syrup and folded her pancake neatly. She ate with a quiet smile, eyes flicking up to her father more often than usual. He saw her trying to hide her happiness behind a straight face.

  He didn’t call her out on it. But his heart felt light.

  That night, as they tucked in, Nia clutched Kazen’s sleeve.

  “Daddy… today was fun,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?” he said, brushing her bangs aside.

  “But I’m scared… what if it ends? It was too good. What if I wake up and you're gone again?”

  Kazen froze.

  He saw Rei’s eyes shift beneath her bnket but she didn’t speak.

  So he y down between them without a word.

  “You’re not dreaming,” he whispered finally. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Nia snuggled into his side. “Promise?”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Promise.”

  He felt Rei shift closer on the other side, silently curling into him.

  With both daughters in his arms, Kazen stared at the ceiling in the dark.

  He had lived two lives already.

  This time… this time, he would get it right.

  Even if it took everything he had.