Three more days passed. In that time, I finally completed the scarf I had been making for Mikasa. It was not a bright red, but a deeper, richer shade. Though crafted from fur, it felt as smooth as silk, resistant to dirt and wear. Because of the enchantment I placed on it, the fabric could adjust its thickness according to the temperature. I was certain Mikasa would love it.
Tomorrow was her birthday.
I wrapped the scarf in white canvas, tied the opening with a strip of vanilla fiber, set it beside my bed, and fell asleep with a quiet sense of satisfaction.
Before dawn, an indescribable joy surged from the depths of my heart and pulled me from sleep.
What is this?
For a moment, I lay still, confused. Then the realization struck me.
It is the precursor to a Demon Hunter awakening.
Could Renn be nearby?
I immediately activated Hunter's Spirit Sight and scanned my surroundings. Under its influence, the walls offered no obstruction. My vision swept through the cabin with ease. To my surprise, apart from the Ackerman couple and Mikasa, I sensed no one else.
Since when did Renn's concealment become this refined?
I sat up, frowning. That did not make sense.
Let me look again.
As I focused more carefully, I noticed faint strands of magical energy slowly flowing into the limbs and bones of the person in the room across from mine.
Mikasa.
I froze.
Nine years old is a special age.
Yato's words echoed clearly in my mind.
Nine years old. Precursor to awakening. Mikasa.
She is a Demon Hunter?
The thought felt almost absurd.
Demon Hunters awaken at ten, that much is true. However, every Demon Hunter experiences a precursor at nine, a sign that awakening can begin early. Because early awakening carries unpredictable consequences, most wait until ten for a natural emergence, unless forced by circumstance.
Then Hank and Yato must be Demon Hunters as well.
The pieces aligned too easily. Demon Hunters are adept at concealing their presence. Unless they deliberately reveal themselves, even others of their kind struggle to detect them. That explained much about Hank and the rest.
But why are Demon Hunters here, in this world?
I exhaled slowly, pushing away the spiral of questions.
One problem at a time.
I lay back down, pulled the covers over myself, and forced my mind into stillness until sleep reclaimed me.
The next morning, perhaps because of the earlier disturbance, I woke before sunrise and could not return to sleep.
The sky was only beginning to lighten when I rose, washed quietly, and slipped downstairs. As expected, no one else was awake.
Where I came from, birthdays meant candles and cake. I had no idea whether such customs existed within the Walls. I also had not paid attention to what Hank and Yato had been preparing these past two days, as I had focused entirely on finishing the scarf.
Still, a proper meal on a birthday is universal.
There was enough time before the others woke. I could hunt and return unnoticed.
I picked up my bow and quiver, fastened my dagger at my waist, eased open the front door, and stepped outside.
Perhaps I was running from the truth, clinging to the fragile peace we had built here. Perhaps I simply did not want change to come too soon.
If that is running away, then so be it.
I allowed myself a faint smile and headed toward the lake.
____
Patreon = _Zeph