Sunday — April 7th
Morning sunlight washed over Soren Town, slow and gentle, as if the world itself had decided to rest.
Riku stepped barefoot across the wooden floor of his house, yawning.
"Why is it so quiet today…?"
Bolt stretched beside him, still half-asleep. "It's Sunday. Even storms take a day off."
Riku blinked. "…Sunday?"
He froze.
"Oh."
Before he could finish the thought, a familiar mechanical click echoed beneath his feet.
From under the floor.
> WHRRR—CLANK
Riku sighed. "…She's already down there."
---
[Scene 1 – Beneath the Floor]
He lifted the hidden panel and climbed down the narrow stairs.
The underground workshop opened before him — warm lights, tool racks, Core stabilizers humming softly, and the scent of metal and energy.
His mother stood at the center table, adjusting a Core gauntlet with practiced hands.
Without turning, she spoke.
"Good morning, birthday boy."
Riku stopped mid-step.
"…You remembered?"
She finally turned, smiling — the kind of smile that carried exhaustion, love, and years of hidden fear.
"Of course I did. Happy Birthday, Riku. April 7th. Seventeen."
Bolt jumped onto the worktable. "WAIT—IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY?! WHY DID NO ONE WAKE ME?!"
Riku scratched his head, embarrassed. "Honestly… with everything that happened, I kind of forgot too."
His mother reached under the table and placed a long, sleek case on the counter.
"Then let me remind you properly."
---
[Scene 2 – The Gift]
She opened the case.
Inside lay a new launcher-gauntlet — black and silver, reinforced edges, Core channel glowing faint blue.
Riku's eyes widened.
"…My gauntlet… It broke during the tournament."
"I know," she said softly. "That impact shattered the internal Core rail."
She tapped the new one.
"This is a replacement. And not just any replacement."
She hesitated — just for a second.
"…Your father sent the design."
Riku's breath caught.
"He… did?"
She nodded. "No return address. Just the specs. He knew exactly how you fight."
Riku slowly picked it up.
It felt lighter. Stronger. Like it fit him perfectly.
"…Thank you, Mom."
She placed a hand on his head. "Live long enough to use it properly."
Bolt sniffed dramatically. "WHY IS IT ALWAYS SO EMOTIONAL ON BIRTHDAYS?!"
---
[Scene 3 – Late but Loud]
The workshop door suddenly burst open.
"RIKUUUUU—!!!"
Toma came running down the stairs, tripped on the last step, barely caught himself, and skidded to a stop.
"—SORRY I FORGOT!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"
Riku deadpanned. "…You're exactly on time for being late."
Toma shoved a box into his hands. "OPEN IT FIRST, JUDGE ME LATER!"
Inside was a new combat belt, reinforced straps, adjustable Core mounts.
"And—listen—" Toma said quickly, "I customized it. See the side pouch?"
Riku nodded.
"You can store your Core there. It's disc-shaped anyway — fits perfectly. You don't need to keep Bolt out all the time."
Bolt crossed his arms. "HEY. I like being out."
Toma pointed at him. "Yeah, and then you complain when you get tired. Spirits need rest too. You've got a form for a reason."
Bolt blinked. "…That's… annoyingly responsible."
Riku smiled. "Thanks, Toma. Really."
---
[Scene 4 – An Unexpected Customer]
A soft knock echoed above.
His mother straightened. "Looks like we have a customer."
Footsteps descended the stairs.
Riku turned—
And stopped.
The transfer student.
Mira Saen.
She stood quietly near the entrance, holding a damaged Core casing in her hands.
"I was told this is where repairs are done," she said politely. "My Core destabilized during synchronization."
Riku felt something shift — not lightning, not fear.
Just… awareness.
His mother nodded calmly. "You're in the right place. Set it here."
As Mira approached the table, her eyes briefly met Riku's again.
This time, she spoke.
"…Happy Birthday."
Riku blinked. "You—how did you—?"
She gave a small, almost shy smile. "Your Core resonance is… louder today."
Bolt leaned close and whispered: "Yep. Definitely dangerous."
Mira placed the Core down gently.
"I'll wait upstairs," she said. "No rush."
As she turned away, the lights above flickered faintly.
Just for a moment.
---
[Scene 5 – Ordinary, For Now]
The workshop returned to its quiet hum.
Tools. Laughter. Warmth.
For a few hours, Riku wasn't a subject. Wasn't a target. Wasn't a stormbearer.
He was just a boy. On his birthday. Surrounded by people who cared.
But somewhere
deep within the Core—
Something stirred.
Waiting.
---
🌤️ End of Chapter 14
Next: Chapter 15 — "The Girl Who Hears Cores"
> Birthdays end.
Repairs finish.
And ordinary days never last.