The sea stayed gentle.
No strong waves.
No shifting winds.
Just steady movement forward.
—
For once—
there was nothing they needed to react to.
—
Carina lay flat on the deck, staring at the sky.
"…I'm bored."
—
Kuina sat nearby.
Sword resting across her lap.
"…Then do something."
—
Carina didn't move.
"…I am. I'm resting."
—
Tashigi adjusted her glasses.
"…Resting implies prior exertion."
—
Carina turned her head slowly.
"…I regret speaking."
—
Kevin stood at the bow.
Not watching for danger.
Just… standing.
—
A pause.
—
"…We have time," he said.
—
Kuina looked at him.
"…And?"
—
Kevin turned slightly.
"…We should use it."
—
Carina groaned loudly.
"…No."
—
Tashigi tilted her head.
"…For what purpose?"
—
Kevin answered simply:
"…Improvement."
—
Carina sat up.
"…I knew I didn't like where this was going."
—
Kuina stood.
"…He's right."
—
Tashigi followed.
Same motion.
Same timing.
"…Agreed."
—
Carina pointed between them.
"…Of course you two agree at the same time."
—
Kevin stepped back from the bow.
"…We don't need structure."
A pause.
"…Just repetition."
—
Carina dropped back onto the deck.
"…I'm going back to being useless."
—
No one stopped her.
—
Kuina drew her sword.
"…Then we begin."
—
The deck became their space.
—
No tension.
No urgency.
—
Just practice.
—
Kuina moved first.
A clean swing.
Controlled.
Precise.
—
Tashigi followed.
Same angle.
Same motion.
—
Not copying—
but aligning.
—
Kevin watched for a moment.
Then stepped in.
—
Soru.
A short burst.
Stop.
—
Again.
—
Not speed—
control.
—
Carina peeked from the deck.
"…You all look the same every time you do this."
—
Kuina didn't stop.
"…That means it's consistent."
—
Tashigi added:
"…Consistency builds accuracy."
—
Carina closed her eyes again.
"…You're all exhausting."
—
Time passed.
—
Sweat formed.
Breathing shifted.
—
But no one rushed.
—
Kevin stopped first.
"…Again."
—
Kuina nodded.
—
Tashigi adjusted her stance.
—
They repeated.
—
And again.
—
And again.
—
Carina eventually sat up.
Watched them.
—
"…You're not even fighting each other."
—
Kuina answered:
"…We don't need to."
—
Tashigi continued:
"…We're correcting ourselves first."
—
Carina frowned.
"…That sounds annoyingly effective."
—
A pause.
—
She stood.
"…Fine."
—
All three glanced at her.
—
"…What?" Carina crossed her arms. "…I can do things too."
—
Kevin tilted his head slightly.
"…Such as?"
—
Carina grabbed a piece of rope nearby.
"…Balance."
—
She stepped onto the railing.
—
Paused.
—
"…If I fall, this didn't happen."
—
She took one step.
Then another.
—
The ship moved slightly beneath her.
—
She wobbled—
then steadied.
—
"…See? Skill."
—
Kuina watched.
"…You're compensating."
—
Tashigi added:
"…Your center is shifting too much."
—
Carina froze.
"…Stop analyzing me."
—
Kevin observed quietly.
"…Adjust your stance."
—
Carina narrowed her eyes.
"…I didn't ask—"
—
She slipped.
—
A beat—
—
Then caught herself on the rope.
—
Silence.
—
"…I meant to do that."
—
Kuina exhaled softly.
Almost a laugh.
—
Tashigi adjusted her glasses.
"…Unlikely."
—
Carina climbed back onto the deck.
"…I'm done improving."
—
Kevin nodded once.
"…Noted."
—
They returned to training.
—
And for a while—
it wasn't about getting stronger.
—
It wasn't about the sea.
Or the future.
—
It was just—
movement.
Correction.
Presence.
—
The sun began to lower.
—
The light softened.
—
Kuina sheathed her sword.
"…Enough."
—
Tashigi nodded.
"…Agreed."
—
Kevin stopped.
—
Carina was already lying down again.
"…Finally."
—
They settled across the deck.
—
No one spoke for a while.
—
The sound of the sea filled the space between them.
—
Carina broke the silence.
"…We're getting better."
—
Kuina answered simply:
"…Yes."
—
Tashigi added:
"…At a steady rate."
—
Kevin looked at the horizon.
"…We're not forcing it anymore."
—
That made it quieter.
—
Carina closed her eyes.
"…Good. I hate forcing things."
—
No one argued.
—
The ship continued forward.
—
No interruptions.
No pressure.
—
Just time.
—
And for now—
that was enough.