Aiko blinked awake, wincing at the blinding glare of headlights rushing past. Her arm was stiff and sore. She glanced down. Dynamo was sprawled across it, snoring, one leg kicked out like she owned the whole car. Chester was curled in her lap, tail twitching in some happy dream.

  “Where are we?” Aiko croaked, rubbing her eyes.

  Dynamo groaned, not even opening hers.

  “On the highway to hell, obviously. Wake me when we get snacks.” She rolled over, smothering Chester, who squeaked.

  Hiroto didn’t look away from the road. “I’m taking you home.”

  “This isn’t the way to the city,” Aiko said, confused.

  “Your other home, child.”

  Aiko’s stomach knotted. “What are you talking about? I don’t get it.”

  Hiroto’s jaw tightened. “The courts won’t allow me to raise you. My past… it isn’t suitable.”

  Aiko’s throat burned. “I don’t care about the court! I want to stay with you!”

  The car went heavy with silence. Even Dynamo cracked one eye, watching.

  After a long moment, Hiroto said softly, “Someday, Aiko. But not now. I need to prove I can give you a stable life.”

  Aiko clenched her fists. “Then I’ll tell the judge myself. Isn’t there a way I can choose?”

  Hiroto hesitated. “Maybe emancipation. But you’re thirteen. The law may not allow it.”

  “I don’t care. If there’s a way, I’ll try.”

  Dynamo snorted. “Yeah, kid, just march into court and tell ‘em you’re your own boss. Judges love that.”

  Aiko shot her a glare. “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” Dynamo stretched, cracking her knuckles. “Look, I’m all for you taking charge. Just don’t think the system’s gonna roll over ‘cause you’re mad and tiny.”

  Aiko crossed her arms but nodded. “I’ll still try.”

  “Good.” Hiroto gave her a sad smile. “But for now, promise me you’ll stay out of trouble.”

  “I promise,” Aiko whispered. Then, squinting at the window, she froze. The Henderson farm loomed into view, glowing in the sunrise.

  “The farm?” she breathed.

  “These are good people,” Hiroto said. “Protect them.”

  The car pulled into the gravel drive. Mrs. Henderson stepped out, Emma and Annabelle trailing behind. Emma squealed when she saw Aiko.

  Aiko flung the door open and bolted, colliding with Mrs. Henderson’s arms.

  “Welcome home, child,” Mrs. Henderson murmured.

  Aiko buried her face in her sweater, sobbing.

  Behind them, Dynamo climbed out of the car, yawning loud enough to startle the chickens. “Nice farm. You guys got Wi-Fi, or is this one of those ‘back to the land’ setups?”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Emma giggled, which only made Dynamo smirk.

  Mrs. Henderson smoothed Aiko’s hair. “Come on inside. I’ll make pancakes. They might be burnt, but we’ll risk it.”

  “Last time she set off the fire alarm,” Emma whispered to Aiko.

  Aiko sniffled, wiping her face. “Then I definitely want some.”

  Dynamo smirked. “Good call. If you can survive detention food, you can survive Mrs. Henderson’s pancakes.”

  Later, in the kitchen, Annabelle set a plate down. “We’re out of the fake syrup, but there’s real maple in the fridge.”

  “I like the real stuff,” Aiko said.

  Dynamo stabbed a fork into her pancake. “Real, fake, whatever. As long as it’s sugar, it’s edible.”

  Emma wrinkled her nose. “You eat like a raccoon.”

  Dynamo shrugged. “Raccoons survive everything. Take notes.”

  Even Aiko laughed a little.

  ***

  After breakfast, the Henderson kitchen was buzzing. Mrs. Henderson fussed over the dishes, Emma chased Chester down the hall, and Annabelle gathered plates. Aiko lingered near the back door, her shoulders still tight. Dynamo leaned against the doorframe, a toothpick between her teeth like she owned the place.

  “You’re awfully quiet, kid,” Dynamo said.

  Aiko shrugged, staring at her shoes. “Feels weird. Like if I breathe too loud, it’ll all vanish.”

  Dynamo smirked. “Yeah, well, welcome to life after detention. You get so used to looking over your shoulder, normal feels like a trick.”

  Aiko looked up, her eyes shining. “Do you think I’ll have to go back?”

  Dynamo tilted her head, watching her for a long beat. Then she spit the toothpick into the trash. “Listen. You’re tougher than half the people I’ve met in there. Tougher than me, sometimes. You’ll figure it out. And if they try to drag you back, you fight. Hard.”

  Aiko blinked at her, surprised. Dynamo usually covered everything in sarcasm. “You mean that?”

  “Yeah.” Dynamo’s voice dropped, quieter than Aiko had ever heard it. “I don’t say stuff I don’t mean.”

  Aiko’s lips tugged into the smallest smile. “Thanks.”

  Dynamo shoved her hands in her pockets, awkward. “Don’t get mushy on me. I’ll lose my rep.”

  Aiko giggled. “Too late.”

  Dynamo rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Fine. But if you tell anyone I went soft, I’ll deny it.”

  “Deal.” Aiko nodded, sealing the promise.

  “Now, show me this training barn I’ve been hearing about. I think it’s time for me to teach you a thing or two.”

  ***

  The Hendersons’ barn smelled of hay and old wood, shafts of morning light spilling through the cracks in the walls. Dust motes danced in the air as Aiko pushed the sliding door shut behind them.

  “This feels… safe,” Aiko whispered.

  Dynamo cracked her knuckles. “Safe’s boring. Let’s see if you actually remember those moves you showed off in the yard.”

  Aiko squared her stance on the creaky floorboards, fists raised. “I remember.”

  “Good. Then prove it.”

  Dynamo lunged, playful but quick. Aiko sidestepped, her small frame darting under Dynamo’s arm. She tapped Dynamo’s ribs with the heel of her hand.

  “Point for me,” Aiko said, a grin flickering across her face.

  Dynamo smirked, rubbing the spot. “Lucky shot. Don’t get cocky, short stack.”

  The sparring escalated—Aiko ducking, weaving, her movements sharp and precise. Dynamo fought heavier, stronger, but slower. They moved between the stacked hay bales and rusty equipment like it was their arena.

  “You’re faster,” Dynamo admitted, a little breathless after Aiko slipped behind her again. “But speed’s nothing if you can’t hold your ground.” She grabbed Aiko’s wrist mid-strike and twisted, gently but firmly.

  Aiko winced but didn’t back down.

  “Then I’ll just get faster and stronger.”

  Dynamo let go, her smirk softening.

  “That’s the spirit. You fight like you’ve got something to prove.”

  “I do.” Aiko’s voice was steady now. “To Malcolm. To the court. To myself.”

  For a beat, the barn went quiet except for their breathing. Then Dynamo nodded, serious. “Good. Then we’ll train every morning. Here. You and me. If you’re gonna take on monsters—human or not—you better be ready.”

  Aiko’s eyes lit up with determination. “Deal.”

  She lunged again, and Dynamo caught her, the two of them laughing for the first time since they’d escaped. The sound filled the barn, bright and defiant, echoing against the old wooden beams like a promise.

  A coughing sound emanated from a corner of the barn. It was Uncle Hiroto.

  “It’s time.”

  ***

  Thirty minutes later Aiko squinted at the lowering sun in the western horizon. Hiroto squeezed Aiko’s shoulder. “I’ll be back to check in soon.”

  “Later, kid,” Dynamo said, giving Aiko a half-smile. “Try not to set the house on fire.”

  Chester leapt to Aiko’s shoulder and nuzzled her cheek.

  Aiko watched as her uncle’s car disappeared down the road, Dynamo’s sarcasm still echoing in her ears. For the first time in weeks, it almost felt like family.

  I’ll be ready next time, she thought, blinking away tears. Malcolm won’t win.