Chapter 68: Smile

"And the formal assessment?"

"Pushed back. Testing you while you’re nursing a torn shoulder is pointless—it wouldn’t give us an accurate benchmark of your capability."

Kael nodded unconsciously. "Understood."

"I also pulled the surveillance footage from the industrial district incident," Marcus continued, his voice sharpening. "You kept your head better than most rookies would have, I’ll give you that. But your mechanics were a mess."

Kael listened quietly, absorbing every word.

"You leaned entirely on raw strength and reflexes to brute-force your way through those beasts," Marcus said. "Just because you walked away doesn’t mean your form worked. You left your flanks wide open at least four times, and your footwork was flat and reactive."

"I felt it while it was happening," Kael admitted. "My balance was off after the first heavy swing."

"At least you have the awareness to recognize it. The day you’re cleared, we’re stripping your combat style back to the foundations. Footwork, center of gravity, defensive transitions, and weapon control. You’re going to drill the basics until they’re muscle memory before I let you anywhere near a live gate or a higher-tier test."

Kael glanced down at the white sling strap peeking out from his collar. "How long do you expect the remedial training to take?"

"That depends entirely on how fast you unlearn your bad habits. I’m not giving you a neat timeline just to make you feel better."

"Fair enough."

"One last thing. Your official evaluation date remains open until medical signs off. I’ll reach out the moment your clearance comes through."

"Thank you, sir."

"Save your thanks and focus on healing properly. I don’t have the patience to train a recruit who keeps sidelining himself because he can’t sit still for a week."

Kael chuckled softly. "I’ll behave."

"See that you do."

The line clicked dead.

Lowering the phone to the table, Kael leaned back into the cushions and let out a slow breath. Part of him had hoped for a concrete date to work toward, some fixed point on the calendar to anchor his restlessness. Still, he couldn’t fault Marcus’s logic. Rushing back half-healed would only set him further behind.

Patience was part of the work right now.

By early afternoon, the sunlight slanting through the living room windows had shifted, and Sera relocated her workspace to the dining table so she would have room to spread out. She unclasped her old portfolios and began laying individual sheets across the polished wood, sorting through years of quiet effort.

Kael stayed on the sofa with Noah, mindful of his shoulder. He avoided lifting anything heavier than his son, keeping his movements deliberate and measured.

Every so often, his gaze drifted toward the dining table.

Dozens of loose pages covered the surface—architectural floor plans, perspective drawings of furniture layouts, and small swatches of color palettes pinned to the corners. Kael hadn’t realized just how much work she had quietly accumulated on her own.

After a long stretch of silence, Sera lifted one of the larger sheets, studying it with a critical frown before turning it toward the living room.

"Kael, can you come look at this one?"

He stood carefully, cradling Noah against his good side, and walked over to stand behind her chair. The drawing depicted a bright, open-concept living area anchored by a wide bay window, a minimalist seating arrangement, and a tucked-away reading nook framed by built-in shelves.

"I really like the flow of this layout," Kael said after a moment.

Sera glanced up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. That reading corner in the alcove makes smart use of dead space without cutting off the light from the window."

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, a small smile appearing. "I was actually second-guessing that exact corner."

"Why?"

"I worried the shelving might make the room feel cramped."

"Not at all. It gives the room warmth. Looks like a place someone would actually live in, not just look at."

She studied the drawing with fresh eyes, her thumb tracing the clean graphite lines along the margin, before setting it gently atop a neat stack to her right. "Then it stays in the final pile."

In Kael’s arm, Noah let out a soft whine and began squirming, turning his face against Kael’s shirt.

"Looks like someone’s internal clock just went off," Kael murmured.

Sera glanced at the time on her laptop. "Here, let me go warm his bottle."

"Stay where you are. I’ve got it."

She hesitated, half-rising from her chair. "Are you sure?"

"Sera, I can warm a bottle of milk without tearing my rotator cuff."

She gave him a pointed look that clearly said she was watching his form, though she sank back into her seat. Moving at an unhurried pace, Kael stepped into the kitchen, keeping his injured arm tucked close as he prepared the formula. He tested a drop against the inside of his wrist to be sure of the temperature before returning to the sofa and settling Noah into the crook of his arm.

The moment the nipple touched his lips, the baby latched on eagerly, his small hands coming up to rest against the bottle as he grew completely still.

From the dining table, Sera watched the two of them for a quiet moment before looking back down at her sketches.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Kael looked over at her. "For what?"

"For making space for me to do this."

He knew she wasn’t just talking about the bottle, or the afternoon’s quiet hours. She meant the mental room to breathe—to be something more than just tired and worried.

"You never have to thank me for that, Sera."

"I know," she replied, her voice warm. "I just wanted to say it out loud."

Kael offered her a gentle nod and turned his attention back to their son.

By the time evening settled over the apartment, Noah had been burped, changed into his sleep sack, and laid down in his crib for the night. Kael returned to the living room and sank onto the sofa beside Sera.

On the coffee table in front of them sat three distinct, neatly squared stacks of paper: the top selections for her portfolio, concepts that needed redrawing, and raw ideas to save for later modules. It was only the first step of a long process, yet the tension that had lingered around her eyes earlier that morning was entirely gone.

"I’ll pick it back up tomorrow," Sera said, closing her notebook with a soft thud.

"How many made the first cut?"

"Six so far. Though I might swap one or two out once I look at them with fresh eyes in the morning."

"Six is a strong start for day one."

Sera leaned back, resting her head against the top of the sofa cushions with a tired sigh. "I still have so much to learn."

"That’s the whole point of enrolling in a school."

She turned her head to look at him, smiling faintly. "You always make everything sound so straightforward."

"I’m just reminding you that nobody expects you to graduate before your first class."

Her expression softened, and she shifted slightly to face him. "And what about you? Once the doctor clears your shoulder, what’s the immediate plan?"

"Get back to the training hall with Marcus. Fix my footwork, finish the formal evaluation, and get an official measure of where I actually stand."

"Nothing beyond that yet?"

"Not yet," Kael said honestly. "There’s no sense building long-term plans on a hunter rank I haven’t earned."

Sera nodded in quiet agreement. "That’s sensible."

Kael glanced down at her closed notebook on the table. "Once your class schedule comes through, we’ll map my training blocks around your lectures. I don’t want your coursework getting pushed to the margins every time I get called to the training center."

"I’ll share the timetable with you as soon as they send it."

"Good."

In the corner of Kael’s eye, a soft blue light pulsed, resolving into a familiar status window.

[Family Man System][Family Bond: Level 3][Current Family Status: Stable][Family Protection: New Home Protection][Passive Ability: Family Guardian — Basic]

Kael scanned the steady lines of text before dismissing the screen with a thought.

The system offered no grand fanfare for a quiet day at home, nor did he want any. His path forward was already laid out in front of him: let his body mend, rebuild his combat foundations from the ground up, and stand firmly beside Sera as she stepped into a world of her own.

His gaze drifted toward the half-open bedroom door, where Noah was sleeping soundly.

Tomorrow would likely look much the same—early morning feedings, diaper changes, physical recovery, and the slow, steady work of building their lives piece by piece.

Right now, he wouldn’t trade that rhythm for anything.

"Kael?" Sera called softly, breaking his train of thought.

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow morning, I’d like to go over the enrollment requirements with you. There are a few details in the syllabus I want to bounce off you."

"Alright. We’ll go through it together after breakfast."

"Good. Which means right now, you need to go to bed."

A corner of Kael’s mouth lifted. "You’re starting to sound an awful lot like Marcus."

"Then maybe you should take the hint and listen to both of us."

"Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice."

Sera laughed quietly, rising from the sofa and reaching out a hand toward him. "You really don’t."

Kael stood up beside her, pausing only to check on Noah one last time before clicking off the living room lamp. His shoulder still carried a dull ache, and the proving grounds of the hunter association were still waiting for him down the road, but the restless urgency that had hounded him since the incident had finally gone quiet.

For the first time in days, he was completely content to leave tomorrow’s battles for tomorrow.