Alexander Blackbell and Dandelion Hoshina had been two of the strongest talents of the last generation, part of a trio that had once dominated everything they touched. That team had long since disbanded, everyone scattered into their own lives. The third member, still famous in his own right, wasn't worth getting into right now.
A century later, Dandelion and Alexander had married. Three daughters followed. The eldest had moved to Earth and built a quiet life there. The middle daughter, talented enough to draw jealousy, had been schemed against and died young. The youngest was Alia, a hundred and one years old, a Supernova in her own right.
All three had carried real talent, their parents' pride. But with Alexander gone on his journeys more often than not, Dandelion alone had raised them, hard and unyielding, forcing all three through Plasma Aura training from childhood.
Plasma Aura was one of only two secondary Auras in existence, and Dandelion remained its sole living holder. A secondary Aura's defining trait was how widely it could be awakened. Meditation Aura, by contrast, had spread across nearly every Aura user in the region, its usefulness so foundational that the Aura Region's entire strength arguably rested on it.
Plasma Aura worked the opposite way. It had one single ability, being brutally difficult to awaken, and even harder to master. But the payoff matched the difficulty. It had made Dandelion one of the most feared Aura users alive, still capable of holding her own against the current generation even now, old and frail as she was.
I lost to her twice, Sasaki thought, watching her from across the garden, before I finally worked out a technique that could counter it properly.
He'd fought her himself, eventually. She'd been brutal to crack. But crack she had, given enough attempts and enough stubbornness.
Dandelion opened her eyes slowly, taking in the garden around her. Blue hydrangeas and chocolate cosmos dominated the beds, with purple tulips and white dandelions scattered carefully throughout. Sasaki had arranged every color, every placement, on purpose.
Most people would have missed the message entirely. Dandelion didn't.
Insolent brat, she sent through Meditation Aura, no fear in it at all. Having a daughter with my daughter doesn't make me part of your little family.
Sasaki's mouth curved. He kept his tone easy. Don't be so harsh, mother-in-law. I know for a fact you cried when Alisa was born.
As if you'd ever let me actually train her properly, Dandelion shot back, sharper now.
She was nothing like her name suggested, no fragility in her at all, will forged like steel. She'd spent decades searching for a successor and found none. Her daughters had all chosen their own paths, and the one who'd actually wanted to inherit Plasma Aura had died before she ever got the chance. Dandelion still carried that regret, all these years later.
Her last real hope now sat in two places: Alisa, or whatever descendants her eldest daughter had raised on Earth. Alisa, with parents like these, seemed the obvious choice, assuming nothing went wrong first.
But sadly, her relationship with Alia had never been anything close to good. Alia hated her outright, and had for a long time now.
The trouble had started years ago, when it came out that Alia belonged to the Evil Pathway. The Hoshina family presided over the Goodness Pathway, and that single fact had made her existence unbearable for the family's reputation. Dandelion had felt the full weight of that pressure bearing down on her, and in the end, she'd made the decision to cast her own daughter out.
She had still helped her in secret, quietly, from a distance. But she had never spent real time with her after that. She had learned to act, in public and even sometimes in private, as though she barely knew the girl at all.
Alia had never forgiven her for it. Every time she looked at her mother, something close to hatred flickered behind her eyes.
And really, who could blame her? She had been thrown out of her own family simply for belonging to the wrong pathway. She had spent her entire childhood fighting for scraps, killing when she had to, clawing her way toward every resource she could get her hands on, just to reach the strength she carried now.
And now, after everything, after finally having a daughter of her own, her mother dared to reach out and try to lay claim to her granddaughter. The thought alone made something in Alia's chest curl tight with disbelief.
No way, had been her first thought, reading Dandelion's letter. She had rejected every single one of her mother's requests to meet, to talk, to explain herself even once.
Dandelion had never held that against her. She understood her daughter completely. If their positions had been reversed, she knew she would have felt the same way.
But she had not had a real choice back then. If she had refused to make that decision, she would have had to send her daughter somewhere far worse, somewhere she would have certainly died.
Alia had climbed high enough now to understand that much, at least in theory. She understood the impossible position her mother had been forced into. And yet understanding did nothing to soften the anger still living inside her.
Even so, she thought, I still can't forgive her.
She had tried to, more than once. The emotions tangled up inside her over the years refused to untangle themselves no matter how hard she pushed. That same unresolved knot had once cost her dearly too, back when she'd struggled for years just to complete the steps of her own Lysi Nova rank control method.
Sasaki had always taken her side in this, without exception. She was the person he chose to spend his time with above anyone else, the one he traveled with, the mother of his child. There had never been any other option for him.
Dandelion, for her part, had long since made peace with her own plan.
It looks like I'll need to cooperate with Alexander regarding the Paris operation, she thought, if I want any real chance of bringing my granddaughter here to Lumenia. A faint, distant thought followed after it, unbidden. How long has it actually been since I last saw him properly?
She let the memory drift past without dwelling on it and climbed the stairs toward where Sasaki stood waiting.
The two exchanged brief, formal greetings. Dandelion pressed a small, glowing charm forward, another sizable resource gift, this one sliding directly into Sasaki's world of consciousness and subconsciousness the moment he accepted it.
You have my blessing and my support in raising Alisa, she sent, quiet and direct. I only hope the two of you protect her well.
Sasaki's eyes flickered for a brief moment as he read the words settling into his mind. He looked up at the woman standing a full head taller than him, and found something unexpectedly warm sitting behind her otherwise stern gaze, something that looked, unmistakably, like love.
He let a slow, genuine smile spread across his face and nodded once in return.
Dandelion allowed herself a small smile of her own as she walked past him, unhurried, and a pair of Hypernovas fell into step beside her a moment later, escorting her toward the room prepared in her name.