David stood at the foot of Kaito's bed, the beep of monitors filling the silence, and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Kaito who'd joked about the gardens, who'd warned him about his sister, who'd smiled like nothing in the world could touch him. Kaito who now lay so still the bandages across his chest barely moved with his breathing.
"Someone tried to kill him," David repeated, because the words didn't make sense in his head.
Becca nodded once, sharp. "Last night. He was coming back from a meeting in District Three, some family business my grandmother wanted handled. They ambushed him near the old bridge."
"Who?"
"That's the problem. We don't know." Her voice was flat, professional, like she was reporting on a mission instead of talking about her brother. "Two attackers, both masked, both using abilities we couldn't identify. Kaito took one down before the other got him. By the time our people arrived they were both gone."
David looked at Kaito's face, slack with sleep or sedation or something worse. "Is he going to be okay?"
"The healers say yes. The blade missed anything vital by a few centimeters. He'll recover." Becca paused. "But he won't be training for a while. Won't be fighting. Won't be doing anything until he heals."
David heard what she wasn't saying. The Moon Clan had enemies, Becca had said that from the beginning. But enemies who struck at family members in the open, who left messages carved into people's chests, who operated so close to the estate that security hadn't been able to stop them.
"That's why you called me early," he said slowly. "Something happened. This is what happened."
Becca finally looked at him, her silver eyes hard. "My grandmother thinks it's connected to you."
The words hit him like a punch. "What? How?"
"Because Kaito was meeting with people who were asking questions about the Ashborn name. About the Phoenix Clan. About you." She turned away from the bed, walked to the window, stood silhouetted against the grey morning light. "Someone found out he was looking into your past and decided to make sure he stopped."
David's hands clenched at his sides. "I didn't ask him to—"
"I know." Becca's voice cracked, just slightly, before she caught it. "He did it on his own. Because he thought you deserved to know the truth. Because that's who Kaito is, always poking into things that don't concern him, always trying to help." She pressed her forehead against the glass. "He said you reminded him of someone. Someone he'd lost. He never told me who."
David didn't know what to say. The guilt was already settling in his chest, heavy and hot. Kaito had been hurt because of him, because of his name, because of the people who'd killed his parents and were still watching, still waiting, still hunting.
"This is my fault," he said quietly.
Becca turned from the window, her face hardening. "No. Don't do that. Don't make this about you." She walked toward him, her steps measured, controlled. "The people who did this, whoever they are, they made a choice. They chose to attack my brother, to hurt my family, to send a message. That's on them. Not on you."
"But if I hadn't come here, if I hadn't brought all this with me—"
"You think we didn't have enemies before you arrived?" Becca laughed, a harsh sound with no humor in it. "The Moon Clan has been fighting someone for three generations, David. Wars we win, wars we lose, wars that never end. You didn't create our enemies. You just gave them a new target."
David wanted to believe her. He really did. But looking at Kaito's still form, at the bandages that hid how bad the damage really was, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd brought this somehow.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked.
Becca studied him for a moment, something shifting in her expression. "Train. Get stronger. Be ready." She moved to her brother's bedside, touched his hand briefly. "Because whoever did this, they're not finished. And when they come for you, I want you to be able to fight back."
---
The grandmother summoned them an hour later.
She sat in her usual room, in her usual position, but David could see the difference. Her eyes were sharper, her posture more rigid, her hands wrapped around her teacup like she was holding something that might explode.
"Sit," she said, and they sat.
She looked at David for a long moment, studying him, measuring him. "You know what happened."
"Yes."
"Then you know why I called you here." She set her teacup down. "My grandson was nearly killed last night because he was looking into your past. That makes you a liability, David Ashborn. A danger to this family and everyone in it."
David met her gaze. "I didn't ask him to—"
"I know. Kaito has always been too curious for his own good. That's not your fault." She leaned forward slightly. "But the people who attacked him, they're still out there. And they're not going to stop with one warning."
Becca spoke up. "Grandmother, if you're suggesting—"
"I'm not suggesting anything yet." The old woman held up a hand. "I'm explaining the situation. Someone in this city knows that we're connected to David Ashborn. Someone with enough power to send assassins into our territory, to hurt one of our own, to make it clear that they'll do worse if we keep helping him."
David understood. "You want me to leave."
The grandmother's eyes flickered. "I want you to understand what you're asking of us. Every day you stay here, every hour you train with Becca, every time you walk through our gates, you're putting my family at risk. I need to know that's worth it. I need to know what you're prepared to do when the people who killed your parents come for you."
The words hung in the air, heavy and cold.
David thought about his father's journal, about his mother's laugh, about the list of names in his pocket. He thought about Kaito lying in that bed, about Becca standing at the window with her voice cracking, about all the people who had already been hurt because of who he was.
Then he thought about the fire in his chest, the power he was only beginning to understand, the second system humming quietly in his mind.
"I'm going to find them," he said, his voice steady. "All of them. The people who killed my parents, the people who helped them, the people who've been hiding for eighteen years. I'm going to find them and I'm going to make them pay for what they did."
He looked at the grandmother, at Becca, at the old woman who'd seen so much and judged so carefully.
"And when I do, anyone who stands with me will have my back. Anyone who fights beside me will have my protection. Anyone who bleeds for me will have my loyalty for the rest of their lives." He paused. "That's what I'm prepared to do."
The grandmother stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
Then she smiled. Not the sharp thin smile she used for negotiations, not the cold smile she used for enemies. Something real, something almost warm.
"Good," she said. "Then train. Learn. Grow strong. And when the time comes, we'll be ready."
---
Becca walked him out afterward, through the gardens where Kaito had shown him which plants healed and which ones killed.
"You meant it," she said quietly. "What you told her. About loyalty, about protection. You meant it."
David looked at her. "Yeah. I meant it."
She nodded slowly, something loosening in her expression. "Kaito would like that. He always said you had good instincts."
They walked in silence for a while, the path curving toward the front gates, toward the hover-car waiting to take David home.
"Becca," he said. "Kaito said I reminded him of someone. Someone he lost. Do you know who he meant?"
She stopped walking. For a moment she didn't answer, just stood there looking at the gardens, at the flowers she'd probably grown up with, at the paths she'd walked a thousand times.
"His partner," she said finally. "They worked together for years, fought together, trusted each other with everything. Two years ago they went on a mission and only Kaito came back." Her voice was very quiet. "He never talks about it. Never told me what happened. But sometimes I see him looking at old mission files, reading reports, searching for something. I think he blames himself."
David thought about Kaito's easy smile, the way he joked and laughed like nothing could touch him. He thought about the weight behind his words when he'd warned David about Becca, when he'd talked about people using her.
"He's not the only one who carries things," David said.
Becca looked at him, something raw in her eyes. "No. He's not."
They stood there in the garden, two people who knew what it was like to lose, and for a moment it was enough just to not be alone.
Then Becca straightened, the mask sliding back into place. "Tomorrow. Training. Don't be late."
David nodded. "Wouldn't dream of it."
He walked toward the gates, toward the hover-car, toward the apartment where his father's journal waited and his mother's memory lingered and the list of names burned a hole in his pocket.
Behind him, Becca stood in the garden, watching him go.