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The fire was almost out.
The embers pulsed in the dark like a heartbeat– small and continuous– but hard to look away from. The logs had half turned to charcoal, ash spread across the ground, and Kai felt that the air seemed more hollow tonight. Like something dying, quiet and empty, clinging to the remembered warmth long after the light was gone. Around it, the camp slept. Or pretended to.
In this case, Sora did.
She sat hunched over a water canteen, knees hugged to her chest, eyes blank. Said eyes were locked onto the water sloshing about inside the metal container, like the ripples could answer whatever questions she had swirling inside that head of hers.
Kai watched her from the edge of camp, arms crossed. He’d seen the way she’d flinched when Lloyd praised her earlier. How she’d very subtly pulled away when Wyldfyre tried to talk to her about something too cheekily. How she’d avoided looking anyone in the eye, but kept up smiles and conversations while fiddling with her pant zipper.
Now, she stared into the canteen like it owed her answers.
He walked over without a word and sat beside her.
She didn’t look at him. He didn’t push.
They stayed like that for a while. Simply quiet. Just the pop of the coals, the occasional nightbird in the trees, and the soft, too-quick sound of Sora breathing.
Then, finally:
“Do you ever feel like… you shouldn’t be here?”
Kai blinked. Turned slowly.
Sora’s voice was tiny. It caught Kai off guard, just a little. Her arms were tight around her knees.
“Like, maybe you messed up too much. Or… you don’t deserve to still be standing when someone else isn’t... beside you.”
Ah.
There it was.
Kai didn’t say anything at first. Let the silence build a strong enough bridge between them.
“I was– I am honored that I won, of course," she said, quickly, desperate to cover up cracks that didn't need to be. “It– I had a lot of fun! I made so many memories, was able to do things I had never even dreamed of before, I even won the stinking thing! H-how crazy is that!"
She laughed slightly, but that unmistakable blankness was hard to miss. "I had fun. I spoke to people I didn't interact with much before, and– then I– I messed up. I hid something from someone i cared so much about, and now he's gone and–"
She pressed her palms to her eyes. Her shoulders were shaking.
“I keep thinking. If I’d just said something else, if I’d been honest or more supportive from the start... maybe things would have gone differently. Maybe he'd try to stay, at least."
Her hands loosened, defeated. “I know what Lloyd or the others would say,” she mumbled, “that it’s not my fault. That he made his own choices. But that doesn’t stop it from feeling like– like I pushed the first domino. And now I’m the one who gets a medal. Who gets to celebrate."
The fire gave a slow crackle. A small pop. Neither of them moved.
She turned her head toward him, red-rimmed eyes staring into older, knowing ones.
“Is that messed up?”
Kai didn’t answer right away. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching the fire crackle.
When he did speak, it was soft.
“No,” he said. “It’s not.”
She blinked. "You’re just saying that."
Kai exhaled through his nose.
“You want the truth?”
Sora hesitated, then nodded.
“The truth is,” Kai said, eyes fixed on the coals, “you did mess up. That’s real. And yeah, maybe someone else would’ve done it different. Maybe not.”
She wilted a little.
Then,
“But the other truth is, you tried. You didn’t run from it. And trust me, you're already better than most people." Better than me, atleast.
Sora frowned. “But that doesn’t fix–”
“It doesn’t have to.” He looked at her now. “You don’t fix mistakes by hating yourself for them. You make up and own it. You learn to swallow your pride and take things head on. You make sure that next time, you're better. That’s all anyone can ask.”
She swallowed hard. Her breath stuttered.
“I just… I don’t want anyone to think I’m a hero. Not if this is who I am.”
Kai smiled, a sad little thing.
“...Yeah,” Kai said softly. “I know the feeling.”
Sora’s eyes flicked up, uncertain.
Kai was staring at the embers now. Shoulders loose. Expression unreadable.
“I don’t talk about it much,” he said. “And I’m not gonna go into detail, but, there was a time where every step forward felt like losing something. Every choice felt wrong. I watched someone die—not because I couldn’t save them—but because i couldn't save myself. They knew it. I knew it."
Sora’s breath hitched, but she stayed quiet.
Kai rubbed a thumb over his knuckle. He wasn’t smiling. Not even a little.
“There were... monsters involved,” he said simply. “The kind that don’t just try to kill you. They want to change you. Eat you up and wear your skin, make you think it was your idea. I held on as long as I could, but I lost in the end. I survived, sure– but it never felt like I deserved it.”
He exhaled through his nose.
“Still doesn’t, some days.”
Sora stared at him. Mouth open, but nothing came out.
Kai didn’t meet her gaze.
“I remember,” he said, “sitting by a fire, not too different from this one, and thinking: Why them? Why not me? I’d run through every possible ‘what if.’ What if I’d been smarter. What if I hadn’t done this, what if I didn’t say that—You do it enough and eventually it becomes a reflex. Like blinking."
Silence settled between them. Not heavy, but not light either. More like fog: lingering, soft, hard to breathe through.
“And after I got back... I smiled a lot. Joked around. Said I was fine. Because that's what Heroes do. Take the blunt of it all, just because.”
His voice caught just slightly.
“So when I see you hurting and trying to hide it... yeah. I get it.”
Sora stared at him.
“That place...” she whispered. “Where was it?”
Kai didn’t answer. Couldn't, really. Just looked at her with something too heavy for words. His eyes gleamed in the low light. Not with tears, but with memory.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said finally. “What matters is, you don’t have to carry this alone.”
She hesitated.
“But I messed up.”
“So did I.”
“You’re... you’re Kai. You’re one of the best.”
“Ha! Damn straight. And I’m still messed up.”
The silence that followed was thick. But it wasn’t cold.
Sora looked at the ground. Her voice came out very small.
“Do you still think about it? What happened?”
Kai didn’t look at her.
“Every day.”
Sora nodded, eyes glassy again.
“I miss Arin,” she whispered.
Kai frowned, a tiny action.
She glanced at him. “Do you miss people like that too?”
He didn’t move. Just stared at the fire like it had answers he wasn’t ready to hear.
“Yeah,” he said. "And I hope you never miss someone like that."
And that was all.
But it was enough.
Sora’s lip trembled. She leaned into his side—not fully hugging him, just brushing shoulders. He didn’t move away.
They sat like that for a while. Just two ninja, awake when others weren’t. Nothing more, nothing less.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, Sora realized something important:
Kai never said he was okay.
He never said she had to be, either