The alarm blared at 6:30 a.m., and Kai's hand flopped out from under the blankets to slam it off. Even that small movement made his ribs scream.
His body felt like it had been chewed up and spit out. Not the kind of soreness you get after a long run or a push-up contest in gym—this was deeper, nastier. A twisting, throbbing pain that lived in the joints, under the skin. His shoulder was still bandaged from the slice he took during the battle with the lightning Mamodo girl. It itched like crazy, and moving it too much made everything worse.
He forced himself to sit up. His back cracked. His legs felt like bricks. But school wasn't optional—not when his mum was already suspicious of the way he'd been acting.
He stumbled toward the bathroom, one hand on the wall for support. In the mirror, he looked like a corpse that forgot to finish dying. Pale. Eyes sunken. A faint bruise bloomed beneath one cheekbone, and he had to dab concealer from Maddy's drawer to hide it.
Downstairs, the smell of coffee and toasted bread greeted him—so did the voice of his mother, Dr. Elaine Tamsin, sharp as ever, even with her overnight scrubs still wrinkled from the night shift.
"Kai," she said without looking up from the kettle. "You're limping."
He flinched. "Just… twisted something during PE yesterday."
Elaine turned slowly, raising an eyebrow. "You twisted something that gave you a black eye and makes you wince every time you move your arm?"
Damn it.
"I'm fine," Kai said too quickly. "Really. It looks worse than it is."
She stepped over, took his face gently between her fingers like she would with a patient, and tilted it toward the light. "You didn't get this from PE."
Kai opened his mouth, then shut it.
"I work trauma, Kai. You think I haven't seen someone try to downplay a real injury before?" Her voice wasn't angry. Just tired. "You've been off for weeks. Now you're showing up with bruises and barely eating. If something's going on, you need to tell me."
He lowered his eyes. "I can't."
"Kai."
"I mean it," he muttered, stepping back. "I… it's nothing illegal or bad, I swear. But I can't talk about it. I'm just—dealing with some things, okay?"
Elaine stared at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You're not in trouble?"
"No."
"You're not hurting yourself?"
"No!"
"…Is someone hurting you?"
Kai shook his head. "I promise. No one's hurting me. Not like that."
She exhaled slowly. "Then at least let me take a look at your shoulder. Just to make sure you're not infected."
"No time," he said, slinging on his bag and wincing despite himself. "I'll miss the bus."
Elaine looked like she wanted to say more, to press, but stopped herself. She rubbed her temple and handed him a piece of toast instead.
"You're too smart to be this stubborn," she said.
He managed a small smile. "It's a family trait."
"Distraction is not the same as defeat, but it is a warning."
Kai walked the familiar path to school with his head down, hands buried in the pockets of his blazer. Each footstep thudded with a dull ache in his ribs, a ghost of the battle he'd fought only nights ago. The wound wasn't bad enough to need medical attention, but it reminded him of its presence every time he moved too quickly, or turned a corner too sharply.
The world carried on like nothing had changed.
Cars passed. Students laughed up ahead. Someone zipped by on a scooter. Teachers opened gates. No one noticed that he was carrying the weight of another world in his schoolbag — the spellbook zipped up behind math homework and reading logs. No one noticed the subtle stiffness in his walk, or how carefully he shifted his bag on his shoulder to avoid irritating his bruises.
Because from the outside, Kai Tamsin still looked like the top student in Year 11. Quiet. Smart. Collected.
Inside, he was fraying at the edges.
First period was Chemistry, and it started the way it always did — students filing in, half-asleep, while Ms. Collings scribbled molecular structures across the board. Kai took his seat in the second row and opened his notebook. He knew the lesson already. Probably could have taught it. But the symbols on the board blurred slightly, and his mind drifted to the crackle of electricity, to the way Zayn had roared when casting Zaker, to the cold rush of fear when that last Mamodo lunged at them.
"Kai," Ms. Collings said, turning from the board. "What's the valence of nitrogen in this compound?"
He blinked. "Three," he answered smoothly.
"Correct," she said, but frowned slightly. "And why?"
Kai exhaled, adjusting his posture. "Because it forms three covalent bonds to achieve a full outer shell. It has five valence electrons and needs three more."
"Right," she said, her eyes lingering on him longer than usual.
He looked back down. His pen moved automatically, but his ears rang with a faint static only he could hear.
In History, Mr. Farnsworth read aloud from a document about the English Civil War. Kai was the only one who could summarize the source without looking, even while doodling tiny lightning arcs in the margins of his page.
"You're a machine," Declan whispered, shaking his head. "You don't even blink during tests."
Kai smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes.
He wasn't trying to be distant. It just… happened.
He knew the material. That wasn't the problem. But his mind kept replaying battles — calculating angles, timing spells, imagining scenarios where things went wrong. His academic reflexes still worked, but they were hollow. As if he were running a script in the background while his real thoughts spiraled in another window entirely.
Break came. The library was half-full — students cramming, teachers marking papers, some just hiding from the wind outside. Kai sat with his usual crew: Declan, Millie, and Josie. They were talking about someone's birthday party over the weekend. Kai had been invited, he remembered vaguely. He hadn't RSVP'd. He didn't even know if he could.
"What about you, Kai?" Josie asked. "You coming Saturday?"
He looked up. "What?"
"To Lydia's thing."
He hesitated. "Oh. Not sure yet."
Declan frowned. "You always come. You were the one who fixed the speakers last year when they blew out."
"Yeah," Kai said. "Just… a lot going on at home."
It wasn't a lie. Not completely.
Josie shrugged. "Fair enough. But let us know, yeah?"
He nodded, then drifted off again.
English was worse.
Ms. Hampton was mid-lecture on Macbeth when Kai's vision blurred again. Not with fatigue — with memory.
The weight of the book in his hands. The heat of Zaker. The echo of Zayn's voice, primal and electric. The rush of adrenaline as Hyde crashed through the scaffolding at the concert, his sneer twisting into shock. The terror of almost losing Meg and Talia. Of almost losing himself.
"Kai?" Ms. Hampton's voice cut in.
He blinked.
"Yes?"
"What do you think Lady Macbeth's role is in her husband's descent?"
A beat.
He focused, realigned. "She catalyzes it. She questions his manhood, manipulates him emotionally. But the ambition is already there — she just brings it to the surface."
Ms. Hampton tilted her head, impressed. "Exactly. Nicely put."
But her gaze lingered, like she was trying to read a second script beneath his words.
By the time the final bell rang, Kai felt like he'd run a mental marathon.
Not because of the work — the academics still came easily. Too easily. But because of the constant effort to stay balanced. To keep his head above water while pretending there wasn't an entire war going on in the margins of his life.
The teachers had noticed. So had a few students. They didn't say it directly, but the looks were there. The glances. The whispers.
Kai should have cared.
But the truth was, none of it mattered as much anymore.
What was one more quiz compared to a bolt of energy slamming into your chest? What was class drama compared to watching someone's book go up in flames?
The world of school and Mamodo battles were growing harder to reconcile.
And sooner or later, something was going to give.
"Resolve isn't forged in victory. It's hammered out in pain."
The moment Kai stepped through the front door after school, he felt the quiet close around him like a blanket.
He dropped his bag by the stairs and climbed up without a word, each step sending a pulse through his sore side. He didn't bother taking off his shoes. His room was exactly how he'd left it: neat, ordered, untouched. On the outside, everything looked normal.
But inside, the storm never stopped.
He sat on his bed, let out a breath, and peeled off his blazer. The bruise on his ribcage, though mostly hidden, had darkened overnight. He'd told his mom he'd slipped on wet concrete near the store. She'd been skeptical, but she hadn't pressed. Maybe she didn't want to know more. Maybe she was just too busy.
He leaned back against the wall, stared at the ceiling, and let his muscles ache without resistance.
How long could he keep living like this?
Zayn hadn't returned yet. He usually waited until after Kai's family went to bed, staying out of sight. Kai hated it — hated the way he had to treat his partner like a ghost. But what else could he do? Explain to his mom that he was part of an interdimensional battle royale involving spell-wielding children?
Right.
Still… there had to be a better way. A stronger Kai. One that wouldn't keep getting injured. One that could fight alongside Zayn without dragging him down.
His fingers curled into fists.
He stood up, walked to the mirror, and stared into his own tired eyes.
He looked… normal. Not heroic. Not strong. Not chosen.
But he was still here.
That had to count for something.
Kai pushed his desk chair aside and cleared some space on the carpet. He rolled up his sleeves, flexed his arms, and grimaced as his side twinged.
Then he dropped into a push-up.
One.
Two.
Three.
His body protested immediately, but he kept going. Four. Five. Six. It wasn't about reps. It wasn't about muscle. It was about momentum. About proving to himself that he wasn't helpless.
When his arms gave out, he flipped over and tried crunches. Then planks. Then slow squats, careful not to pull anything.
He wasn't aiming to be a fighter overnight.
But if this was going to be his life… if he was going to stand beside Zayn in real battles, not just lucky escapes… he had to be stronger. Not just with the book, but physically. Mentally.
Even when no one was watching.
Even when no one believed in him but himself.
A knock at the door pulled him out of his rhythm.
"Maddy?" he called, wiping sweat from his forehead.
His little sister peeked in, hugging a pillow to her chest. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah," he said, lowering himself onto the bed. "What's up?"
She padded over and sat beside him. Her feet didn't quite touch the floor.
"You didn't eat dinner," she said quietly.
Kai blinked. "Wasn't hungry."
"Mom said you were tired, but…" She frowned. "You're not sick, are you?"
He smiled, ruffling her hair. "No. Just… stuff on my mind."
Maddy studied him with those big, sharp eyes of hers — too perceptive for her age.
"Is it about school?"
He hesitated. "Sort of."
"Is someone being mean to you?"
That actually made him chuckle. "No, no one's picking on me."
She relaxed a little, but still looked uncertain.
"You've just been kinda quiet," she mumbled. "Quieter than normal. And you keep going to your room a lot."
Kai stared down at his hands.
There was so much he wanted to say. That he was fighting a secret war. That he'd seen things she couldn't imagine. That he was scared of getting people hurt — scared of being too slow next time.
But he couldn't say any of it.
So instead, he shifted closer and put an arm around her.
"Thanks for worrying about me," he said, voice soft. "You're a good little sister, you know that?"
She beamed. "I am."
He smiled back. For a moment, the weight lifted. Just a little.
Then she added, "You smell like gym socks."
Kai laughed — for real this time.
"Go to bed, gremlin," he teased.
She stood, grinning, then paused at the door. "If something's wrong, you can talk to me. I know I'm little, but I listen good."
His throat tightened.
"I know you do," he said. "And I promise… if I can talk about it, you'll be the first to know."
She nodded solemnly, then disappeared down the hall.
Kai stared at the door long after it closed.
Night fell. His room darkened. The spellbook rested on the desk, untouched for hours.
He stood in front of it like it was a mirror.
"What am I even doing?" he murmured.
Was this really his fight?
He hadn't asked for it. Hadn't summoned Zayn. Hadn't been trained for this.
But every time he saw someone like Hyde — cruel, manipulative, powerful — a part of him snapped into focus.
Maybe he wasn't a born warrior.
Maybe he didn't have some grand destiny.
But if people like that were out there, threatening kids like Talia and Mamodos like Zayn… then he couldn't look away.
Even if it hurt.
Even if it scared him.
Even if he had to hide everything from the people he loved.
Kai reached out and placed his hand on the cover of the book. It hummed faintly under his fingers.
He wasn't just surviving anymore. He was choosing.
The door creaked open behind him.
Zayn stood there, framed by the dim hall light, hair messy and eyes alert. He looked surprised to see Kai awake.
"I started training," Kai said quietly. "It's not much yet, but… I'm not going to slow you down next time."
Zayn stepped into the room and offered a small, sharp nod.
"Good," he said. "You're starting to think like a warrior."
Kai turned to face him fully.
"No," he replied. "I'm thinking like someone who refuses to lose."
The next morning, Kai woke up sore.
His limbs were stiff from last night's half-formed attempt at a workout, and his side throbbed with every breath. He winced as he sat up, pulling the curtains aside. Pale English sunlight leaked through his window, casting long shadows over the floor.
He didn't have school today. It was Saturday.
For once, he was grateful.
His thoughts kept circling around the same question, a quiet drumbeat behind everything he did:
What can I do better?
He'd survived two major battles so far — first against a random brute and his reckless Mamodo, then against a far more dangerous pair in Edo and Hyde. The second fight had almost ended in disaster if not for sheer luck and Zayn's strength.
But luck was a cruel thing to rely on.
He grabbed the book off his desk and held it in both hands. The cover was still warm from last night's contact, like it remembered.
A flicker of light pulsed from the corner of the room.
Zayn stepped forward from where he'd been half-shadowed by the wardrobe. He must've been watching since before Kai woke up.
"You're up early," Kai said, setting the book down gently.
"You're awake. That's enough." Zayn's voice was calm, but his yellow eyes were intense, scanning Kai's posture. "You're limping a bit."
"Noticed that, huh?"
"You're not as subtle as you think."
Kai gave a sheepish shrug. "Still healing. But I meant what I said last night. I want to train."
Zayn crossed his arms. "That's a start."
They moved to the backyard, still damp with morning dew. The stone patio glistened under the weak sun, and the air carried that crisp chill of early spring.
Kai rolled his sleeves up and paced in a circle, stretching his arms. "So. What exactly are we training?"
Zayn stood in the center of the yard, arms folded. "Everything. Your reflexes. Your stamina. Your ability to read situations in battle. The spells don't work without your intent guiding them."
"I thought I just read the words."
Zayn shook his head. "If that were true, everyone would be a threat. It's not just about reading. It's about resonance. Your spirit connects with mine. If you're afraid, if you hesitate — the spells come out weaker. Unstable."
Kai raised an eyebrow. "So… it's not just magic. It's teamwork."
"Exactly," Zayn said, a flicker of approval in his voice. "And most human-Mamodo pairs never figure that out."
Kai nodded slowly. "Then let's figure it out. Together."
Zayn's lips twitched — almost a smile. He stepped back and held out one hand. "Let's begin."
The next hour was grueling.
Not because Zayn was cruel — he wasn't — but because Kai had never pushed himself like this before.
First came the running drills. Back and forth across the garden, ten-second sprints, then twenty. Then a full lap around the block when Zayn deemed the backyard "too easy."
Then push-ups. Planks. Burpees. Kai had only heard of burpees before — now he loathed them.
Every time his body begged for rest, Zayn would calmly point out the last fight, how close they'd come to losing. How close they'd come to burning.
That was enough to keep Kai moving.
But it was during the spell training that something began to shift.
They stood ten paces apart, the spellbook open in Kai's hands. He hadn't memorized every word yet, but the first spell — Zaker — felt like second nature now.
He focused, let the energy rise in his chest, then shouted, "ZAKER!"
Electricity crackled in the air — and for a second, nothing happened.
Then it burst from Zayn's hand, a lightning bolt that struck the center of the tree trunk they'd set up as a target. The bark exploded, the wood steaming.
Kai lowered the book, panting. "That felt different. Stronger."
"You weren't doubting," Zayn said. "Your intent was clean. That's the key."
Kai stared at the blackened tree. "If I'd done that to a person…"
"You would've knocked them out cold. Or worse."
A pause.
Kai swallowed.
He didn't want to kill anyone. Even Hyde. Even someone evil.
But he was starting to understand: this war didn't care about what he wanted.
Zayn stepped closer. "You're improving. Fast. But you're still holding back."
Kai raised his eyes. "How?"
"In your heart. You still think this is temporary. Something you'll walk away from. But the moment you accepted me — the moment you fought for someone else — that was the point of no return."
The words settled in Kai's chest like stone.
He nodded slowly. "I know."
Zayn studied him, silent.
"Then stop thinking like a student," he said. "And start thinking like someone who's already fighting."
Afterward, Kai collapsed onto the patio, chest heaving. His body ached, his fingers tingled, but his mind… was strangely clear.
There was still fear.
Still pain.
But also: direction.
He could get stronger. Not just to protect himself — but to stand beside Zayn.
He could be more than just a boy with a book.
He could be a shield.
Back inside, he gulped down a bottle of water and sat on the stairs. Sweat still clung to his forehead. The house was quiet — his mom had left for work already, Maddy was still upstairs.
Kai glanced down at the spellbook in his lap. Then at his hands. His legs.
He wasn't just a reader anymore.
He was becoming something else.
Zayn stood by the window, watching the street. Always alert.
"You've changed," Kai said quietly.
Zayn turned. "So have you."
Another pause.
Kai nodded, almost to himself.
"Good."