The clock struck noon a few days later, but the garden still felt like morning: crisp air, birdsong, the faint scent of dew on grass.
As Rei had promised, the collars were gone.
One by one he walked down the line of children, gauntleted hands gentle despite the metal. A soft glow of white light, a faint hiss as the metal bands loosened and fell away, then careful healing for the raw, scarred skin beneath. Burns vanished. Missing fingers regrew. Faces that had been twisted by old pain smoothed into something almost hopeful.
The children stood stunned at first, touching their necks as though the absence itself might be a trick. Then came the tears: joyful, ugly, grateful sobs. Some hugged each other. Some hugged Rei, though he stiffened like he had been struck and muttered, "Oi, oi, personal space."
In the end, not a single one chose to leave.
They stayed.
And somehow, in staying, they grew bolder around him: following him like ducklings, calling out questions, tugging at his cloak when they wanted attention. Rei grumbled about it constantly ("I'm not your babysitter," "Stop hanging off me," "This is why I work alone"), but he never sent them away. If anything, he looked more annoyed when they did not bother him, like the quiet made him uneasy.
Eve watched it all from the edges, still learning what it meant to belong somewhere.
Under Rei's guidance, her own lessons continued: relentless, exhausting, strangely kind.
Every morning came the bitter mana potion that coated her tongue like ash and regret. Every afternoon she drained her magic until her vision blurred and her knees buckled. Every time she collapsed, a potion was forced between her lips, then back to casting Heal until her hands shook. "Healthy body, healthy mana," Rei would say, dragging her out for long runs at dawn and dusk, making her sprint laps around the estate until her lungs burned. Strange herbal concoctions appeared at meals, bitter, pungent, "for mana growth," he claimed. She drank them without question.
Sometimes she wondered if he was secretly a mad alchemist. Or a demon in armor.
But even on the worst days, when her body screamed and her mind begged for rest, she was not unhappy.
Because he was there.
Not every moment: he still vanished sometimes with a casual "I'll be back later. Don't slack off," only to return hours or days later smelling faintly of smoke and strange herbs. But when he was present, he was present. Watching. Correcting. Grumbling. Staying.
And that alone made the exhaustion bearable.
Today was different.
Rei had announced the night before: "Tomorrow we practice on other people. Anyone who wants to help, meet in the garden at dawn."
By sunrise the garden was crowded with every child in the house, buzzing with nervous excitement.
Eve stood at the very back, half-hidden behind a stone pillar.
She did not want to do this.
Because they were all staring.
Sharp gazes. Fearful. Wary. Some whispered when they thought she could not hear.
They knew.
They knew what she had done in the arenas: how many had died under her hands, how many had screamed when her curse lashed out. They knew the stories. And even if Rei had removed their collars and healed their wounds, some things could not be erased so easily.
She kept her eyes on the ground, counting blades of grass.
"Sensei! Why do you favor her so much?! She's a demon. She's cursed! Someone like that"
The shout came just as Rei arrived, late and yawning, helmet slightly askew.
He stopped mid-step.
"Huh?" His voice flattened. "What are you talking about? I'm not favoring anyone. Also, I've told you a hundred times. It's not Sensei."
"But lately you're always with her! We"
"That's because no one else can teach her white magic. I don't have books for it, unlike the rest of you. And frankly, you're all mistaken from the start."
His tone turned cold, genuinely irritated.
"I'm not your parent. I'm not your teacher. We are strangers who happen to have mutual interests right now. I'm teaching you because it benefits me. That's it. Don't get attached. Don't rely on me. It's a hassle."
The children flinched. Some looked down, eyes shiny with hurt.
The boy who had spoken first clenched his fists.
"But she is dangerous! If you get too close you'll be cursed"
Rei sighed, long and theatrical.
"Dangerous? You think she's got horns and wings? To me she looks like a normal kid." He paused, then, as if struck by inspiration, said, "Fine. Watch."
He walked straight toward Eve.
"Don't move," he told her quietly.
Before she could react, his gauntlets rose. Cold metal cupped both her cheeks.
"Ah!"
She squeaked, startled by the sudden chill.
Rei did not stop.
He pinched. Kneaded. Pulled her cheeks sideways until her mouth puckered into a ridiculous pout, then stretched them out like dough. Her face twisted into the most absurd expression imaginable.
"See?" he announced to the crowd, still holding her face hostage. "Still alive. Not dead. Not cursed."
He finally let go, spreading his hands wide in proof.
"Her blessing, not curse, by the way, only activates when someone physically harms her. Punch, kick, cut, whatever. As long as you're not beating her up, you're fine. So stop acting like she's a walking plague. Or what? You planning to do to her what was done to you?"
The boy's eyes widened.
His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"I didn't. I never even thought"
His voice cracked.
"I'm sorry! Please forgive me."
He bowed deeply.
Eve blinked.
"Eh?"
"I almost did the same thing they did to you. I hated it when it happened to me and I was about to do it to you anyway. That's the worst. Really, I'm sorry."
One by one, the others murmured apologies too.
And then, somehow, the lesson continued as planned.
At first they still hesitated to approach her. But when nothing happened, no curse, no pain, no death, they grew bolder.
By the end of practice, several were chattering at her side, asking questions, showing off small healing lights they had managed.
Eve stood frozen in the middle of it all.
Confused.
Overwhelmed.
Because no one had ever spoken to her like this without fear. Without lies. Without wanting something.
And yet their faces held no deception. They looked happy. To talk to her.
She did not understand.
"Alright, looks like external casting is stable. Next we'll"
Rei's voice cut through her daze. He nodded, satisfied.
Eve lifted a hand to her cheek, still tingling from where he had pinched it earlier.
It was warm.
Not painful anymore. Just hot. Like fever.
Her heart thudded hard against her ribs, too loud, too fast.
"A cold?"
She murmured to herself.
"Oi. You listening? Hey, your face is bright red. You catch something?"
Rei leaned in suddenly, visor close enough that she could see the faint reflection of her own flushed face in the metal.
She jerked back, heat rushing higher.
"! Yeah. Probably."
He studied her a moment longer.
"Cold, huh? Alright. Rest day, then. We're slacking off today!"
His voice turned suspiciously cheerful as he spun on his heel and practically jogged toward the house.
Eve watched him go.
A strange pang tugged at her chest. Disappointment?
Why?
She had wanted to keep practicing, had she not? Even with a cold?
And yet when she pictured his back disappearing around the corner, her heart stuttered again. Warmth spread from her cheeks to her ears to her fingertips.
She pressed both hands to her face.
Definitely a cold.
That had to be it.
She retreated to her room, wrapped herself tightly in blankets, and decided to sleep until the fever passed.
Tomorrow she would be better.
Tomorrow she would train harder.
Because she wanted to get stronger.
For him.
The strange fever did not break the next day.
In fact, every time Rei was near, every time he ruffled her hair absently, or grumbled at her to stand straighter, or simply stood close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his armor, her cheeks burned hotter.
Her heart raced faster.
She tilted her head, puzzled.
"Weird cold."
That was the only explanation she could find.
And so, quietly, stubbornly, Eve decided she would simply endure it.
Until it passed.