On a quiet evening, rain tapped gently against the windows while a ten-year-old Noctura sat across from her uncle at their small kitchen table.
Dinner was simple—roasted chicken, steamed greens, fresh bread, but the warmth in the room had little to do with the food.
Noctura poked at a piece of chicken with her fork, then looked up. "By the way, uncle…"
"Hm?" Nocturna took a slow sip of the thick green liquid in his glass, his eyes on her.
"I noticed that our names are kind of… similar."
He blinked, then gave a soft, surprised laugh. "You finally caught that, huh."
She nodded her head, then spoke. "Dad only told me that it's a family thing."
Nocturna set the glass down carefully. Figures he never explained it to her. Telling her too much about our bloodline would only weigh her down.
He offered a gentle smile instead.
"All of us in the direct line have names that echo each other. It goes back generations. Supposedly, our ancestors thought that it would bring good fortune—or maybe they were just bad at coming up with new names." He shrugged playfully. "I wasn't really paying much attention when they explained it."
Noctura raised a brow. "And you're always on my case about not listening during training?"
"That's different." He stole a piece of chicken from her plate and popped it into his mouth. "What I teach you is what actually keeps you alive. Most of the theory they drill into you at the AA—"
"AA?" she asked with a curious look.
"The Assassins Academy." he responded.
"Ohh, okay. Wait, nobody calls it that."
"Only a select few individuals—those of us who are the elites, refer to it by that name." he said, taking a drink to try and hide his face.
"I think you're lying." she wasn't convinced.
He shrugged. "In any case, half of the things they teach you at the academy falls apart the second real steel flashes."
She stared at him, unimpressed. "That just sounds like an excuse for being a bad student."
Nocturna choked on his drink, coughing once before dissolving into quiet laughter. "You wound me, kid."
She grinned, small but triumphant. "You're also a terrible liar. Which is concerning, considering your job."
He raised both hands in mock surrender. "Guilty. That said, I'm an assassin, not a—."
"I'm... just gonna go ahead and stop you before you insult other people's line of work." she interrupted.
"Right, thanks. Don't want to unintentionally make the readers angry."
She opened her mouth—then paused, her eyes narrowing. "Uncle…"
"Yeah?"
"You just… broke the fourth wall."
He dangled a chicken bone thoughtfully. "And?"
"Are you allowed to do that?"
"You also just did it, when you pointed it out." he replied.
"..." Noctura immediately covered her mouth, as if the action would undo what she said.
"Relax." He leaned in, conspiratorial. "This is bonus-chapter territory. We get a little leeway. As long as we don't go overboard, then we're fine."
She removed her hands from her mouth, hesitating slightly. "Really?"
"Yep." He winked. "At least, that's what HE said to me."
"He?" she asked out of curiosity.
"Not 'He'. HE." he corrected.
"What's the difference?"
"You know what, just forget it. It's not that important anyways." he shrugged. "Now, back to the name thing. Do you want examples?"
"Yes please!" she nodded in excitement.
He ticked them off on his fingers.
"Well, there's me, Nocturna. Your dad, Nocturn. Your... grandmother... who was Nocturnis. And your great-grandfather, who I believe was Nocturnum. Do you see the pattern?"
She tapped her chin. "So it only applies to those born into the family, not those that came into it."
"Exactly right." He reached over and gently tapped the tip of her nose. "Clever girl."
Noctura beamed with pure, unguarded pride.
"Get it? From that one movie?"
"It doesn't make sense in this case, since I'm not a dinosaur." she shrugged.
"I guess your right." he chuckled with a wry smile.
"Anyways, I know more about our family now." she smiled innocently.
His smile softened into something quieter, more guarded. "Trust me… the less you know about this family, the lighter you sleep."
She studied him. "Why?"
He brushed it off with practiced ease. "I'll tell you when you're older."
She groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Not this again."
"Hey now, I told you the last one, didn't I?"
"Yeah… but I should've figured that one out myself."
"You were five." He chuckled. "If you'd worked it out at five, I'd have thought you were an adult trapped in a kid's body or something." he said jokingly.
"It wasn't exactly some kind of grand secret," she muttered. "Why go that far?"
"Alright, alright. Just finish your food before it gets cold." He nudged her plate closer.
"We don't waste food in this house." they both said in unison.
"That's right." he voiced with a gentle smile.
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched as well. "You and dad always said that."
Nocturna's gaze softened. "He did? Makes sense I guess. He also used to say that a lot every time he cooked for us."
"Was it just the two of you?" she asked, curious about his past.
"Us. Me, your father... and our older sister." he answered, his tone nostalgic.
Noctura's fork paused. "I didn't know I had an aunt. Where is she now? What happened to her?"
Ahh... He voiced internally.
A shadow crossed his face—gone in an instant. He looked down at his plate.
How do I tell her that her aunt was killed by our own mother trying to protect me and her father from our foolish mistakes?
Noctura simply stared at him, still waiting for a response.
"She… disappeared when we were little," he said quietly. "I never saw her again ever since."
Noctura watched him for a long moment. He's lying. Again. It must be something serious then. "I understand."
She chose mercy and changed the topic of conversation.
"Anyway…" She wrinkled her nose at his glass. "What is that? It smells awful, and it looks like sludge."
Nocturna seized the lifeline with visible relief. "This?" He lifted the glass proudly. "Snake-lizard venom."
"You're drinking poison?!"
"Relax." He laughed—warm and easy. "Our bloodline has a natural resistance to any and all kinds of toxins. To us, most toxins are ineffective. And those that are, are the kind that would kill most people—mage or not."
Her eyes widened. "Wait, really?"
"Guess I must've forgotten to mention it. Oh well, better late than never." he shrugged.
She stared at the glass. "Can I… try it?"
He raised a brow. "Are you sure?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "Mhm."
He slid the glass over. "One small sip. And remember this, it's resistance, not immunity." he cautioned.
"Okay, got it." She lifted it carefully, took the tiniest taste—and immediately grimaced, shoving the glass away. "Bleh! It tastes...terrible!"
"Hahaha!" Nocturna burst out laughing. "I'm proud you didn't spit it across the table. Guess it only tastes good if you want something stronger than alcohol."
"Uncle, you big dummy." She leaned over and threw a few light, playful jabs at his shoulder.
He caught one hand gently, still grinning. "Sorry, sorry. How about I make it up to you."
"Really? How?" she asked instantly.
That was fast. Did she plan this from the start? No, I'm probably just over thinking it. He pretended to think hard. "How about… your own ninja outfit?"
She raised a brow. "But I already have—"
"I mean a real one, made from authentic silk. Not the stiff junk they give you at the AA."
She threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you, uncle. I love you so much."
He hugged her back—tight, steady, the way he always did when words weren't enough. "I love you too, my little crybaby."
"Hehe." She giggled into his shoulder.
"Roana can take your measurements tomorrow after school." He kissed the top of her head. "Now, help me with the dishes. Teamwork makes the dream work."
Later, after the kitchen was spotless, they headed to bed. Noctura lay awake far longer than she should have—too excited about tomorrow, too safe in the knowledge that her uncle was in the next room.
In the meantime, Nocturna stared at the ceiling, listening to the soft patter of rain.
One day, she'll ask me even harder questions...
One day, she'll leave, and live a life of her own...
And one day, I won't be there to catch her when she falls...
What happens then?
Who will be there by her side?
There more the years go by, the more I worry for her. For her future.
I wonder, where your nights also filled worrying about her too, brother...?
He closed his eyes.
Until then… I'll keep being her safe place. For as long as I can.
The house settled into quiet.
And somewhere in the dark, a ten-year-old girl smiled into her pillow, dreaming of silk and kunai, and the uncle who made every scary thing feel small.