Oni's body sagged and it dragged him awake. Times like these, he relished corners. Three months in, and there wasn't much he could like about sleeping standing up. Well, almost nothing.

Dev pounced and Oni grabbed her arms and slammed her against the wall. When she winced, he tried to take his actions back, but she also chuckled.

"Amazing. You've really improved."

Her praises weren't as valuable as seeing her so pleased with herself. Sure enough, she geared up, so he dodged her kick. He didn't duck in time for the back hand rushing at him, however. Dev stopped short and flicked his forehead.

"Still needs some work."

Her smile filled him up. He couldn't say when he'd gotten so accustomed to it. In the last three months, a lot had changed. One difference was his height. Now he was almost taller than her. Another was his 'sickness' when around her.

He still held her right wrist, a fact he only realized when she looked down at his grip.

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's still early," Dev said. "How do you keep nodding off like this? Sen must retire to his room before curfew. You can't tell me otherwise."

Sen did. And that wasn't the problem.

As always, Oni changed the subject. "What are we learning today?" There were no mats spread out in Dev's room for them, which was unusual.

"Shooting."

Oni flinched. "No."

"Oh yes. I had to pull a lot of strings to get that room free from another crew. So come on."

In the early mornings they trained. After hours would be a plus as well but there was no way of doing that now with Oni bunking in Sen's room.

In the last three months, Oni'd come to learn a lot about the firing range. So much so that when they left Dev's room, followed the corridor, and arrived at the armory, there was no need for her to do anything beyond release the restrictions on the weapons. He knew the routine by heart.

When he'd first met Dev, she'd been nearly fifteen; he'd been fifteen. Her birthday had come and gone. Today was his. As such, he was happy to spend the morning with just the two of them.

She still didn't carry herself like what he deemed a typical fifteen-year-old but perhaps he didn't conduct himself like a typical sixteen-year-old either.

He certainly didn't when he watched her disassemble the gun then reassemble it again.

After taking it apart once more, she said, "There. Did you see all that?"

With a small scoff, Oni shook his head. "You're asking the impossible."

Dev sighed, exasperated, but Oni felt like a heel for different reasons.

Sure enough, she stepped beside him and pointed step by step which parts when where. And as always, whenever he paused, she took hold of his hands and helped guide him in assembling it.

"Here. Take it step by step. Do you remember the mnemonic device?"

That victory, he gave her with a nod.

"Lovely." She waited, patient to a fault when he assembled the weapon.

After he was finished, she took the gun from him and examined it. "Brilliant. You've done it perfectly." She nudged him with her elbow. "You don't need me much longer. Yeah?"

Her words dragged him down into a panic.

The gun slipped from his hands. Dev caught it.

She let out a sigh when she put it into his palm, holding his hands to make certain his grip was firm.

"Here. It's a wonder you haven't shot yourself yet." Usually, Dev would have him try on his own. She didn't even bother this time before stepping at his back, her arms outstretched around him. His larger body also forced her on the tip of her toes. The warmth of her hands matched the hot breath by his ear as she encouraged him. "Slowly. Squeeze."

Today was Oni's birthday and he formulated how to convey as much. It was also the day he promised himself that he'd explain a few things to her.

"About today," he began.

"I already know."

"You do?" Oni turned. The gun discharged. She made a sound with her teeth, indicating frustration. "Sorry," Oni said. But he wanted to ask her—he had to ask her. This was his birthday present to himself, confessing to her how he felt.

Instead of allowing him to speak, however, she guided his chin, forcing him to look at the targets yet again.

"Keep your eyes trained forward."

But how could he with her heartbeat thumping against his back, her careful grip holding his own.

He allowed her guidance. She wasn't a perfect shot, but she was good—as expected. More than once he told himself to take over. To snatch that gun from her and show his skill. But time and time again, he never did. What she said next was why.

"Don't worry. You're doing well. Soon you won't need my help at all." She took a step back, encouraging him. "Try it by yourself."

Now with her so far away, he felt cold for many reasons. She'd assembled the weapon well, but a smaller adjustment would make it more accurate. Even without it, Oni could make the shot.

So when he took aim, he aimed to miss that target by half an inch.

Dev let out a sigh. "So close." She passed the shooting threshold, an action that had the lights flashing in warning. When she came back to Oni, she shared the good news. "Just half an inch. Look at that! A bit more practice and you'll get it. That's very good!"

Oni felt awful. That was not an act. To see her so excited for him made that pit in his stomach form even faster.

"Today's a big day," Dev boasted.

Lips pressed together, Oni struggled to echo in her joy. He'd confess today. Just simply say it. At the very least, if she rejected him, he could finally start gaining some accuracy points. But at the worst...she'd laugh in his face.

The plan was simple, ask to have a meal with her for his birthday. That was casual enough.

"The day you can finally choose your weapon." A beep sounded from her matrix and she sighed. "I'll see you later on. I've got to train."

She disassembled the gun again, intent on putting everything away like she always did. Today, she paused.

"Tell you what," she said, "you give it a shot by yourself, cleaning up, and I'll come back after my routine to check."

Oni still stared at the ground as he nodded.

Even her gentle pat on the shoulder made him feel proud. Equally, it made him want to die.

The day to choose weapons. He'd even forgotten.

And what would he choose? And would he justify it.

Now, three months in, the one hundred hours of training with Sen had come and gone, yet no one vocalized that fact; they still trained every day like clockwork. Oni'd die before admitting it, but the things he learned in this time proved valuable even now.

You want to isolate as many single senses as you can. Sight should be your absolute, absolute last. The second to last is hearing. The first, is going to be smell.

With that in mind, Oni reached into his pocket for a trusty blindfold he'd gotten from that training and kept ever since. A time or two, he'd tried to even navigate the facility without looking up from the ground, something Sen had boasted was a must.

Now, Oni spread the gun pieces out on the table, put on the blindfold, and got to work. He assembled and disassembled the weapon in record time. And per Sen's instructions, he did it again four more times. Once he was satisfied, though still blindfolded, he went back to a routine he'd learned with Sen months ago—assembling the weapon one-handed. It had been amazing to see Olo achieve it.

Oni had a steady rhythm when the door slid open yet again—someone'd come. Oni didn't miss a beat. It wasn't Dev; she'd have identified herself. Whoever else it was didn't matter. Oni kept on. But then the thought came. What if it was Dev? What if she was too surprised at seeing him to speak? And what if she was angry? The next piece slipped but a hand caught it.

Oni was too defeated to even see who. Even in his thoughts, even when he thought of her, he couldn't concentrate.

A smarter person would gain some distance. He couldn't hope to make it out of this program while reacting like this to someone.

"You're late."

That voice Oni knew.

Sen.

In the last three months, Oni wasn't he only one who'd taken on height and muscle.

Towering well over him, Sen waited.

Oni pulled the blindfold down, snatched the piece from him, and kept on with assembling the weapon one-handed.

"We were supposed to practice holding your breath." At his silence, Sen looked the room over then settled on Oni again. "That is what you should focus on. It's probably the one area she could advise you well."

"She advises me fine," Oni grumbled. The final click of the weapon had him raising it and taking aim. A moment later, he lowered it to a perfect shot.

Sen looked from it to him.

Times like these, Oni didn't dare face him. More than likely, Sen already knew the situation. He never spoke on it, just scoffed each time Oni made a ridiculous excuse as to why he'd leave their shared room early.

With nothing further to say, Oni disassembled the weapon one-handed as well, then went about cleaning up.

"The threshold evaluation's coming," Sen said, turning to follow his movements. "And I don't have a life-line left."

Oni's feet slowed.

Sen took the opportunity to inform him, "I've given them away. Meaning if you can't hold your breath, that'll be it for you. So, if you won't take my extra help, at least have her shift her training to that." He made sure to add, "Even though she doesn't hold you close during the fact."

Breath caught in the back of his throat, Oni turned to face him. He opened his mouth to argue, to curse, to...to lie. Nothing came of it.

Sen was right—he was more than right.

They stood there for some time, Oni refusing to face him.

"By the way," Sen said, holding out his hand to him. "I—I know it's your birthday. I've heard it's custom to give such things. It's one of the responsibilities of a head cadet. So I won't neglect that. Besides, as—as someone who never celebrates it, I know how much it means to people."

Oni made up his mind to ignore him so he couldn't understand why his hand automatically opened to take the gift.

The little black dot confused him until Sen tapped it and an empty holo-image popped up.

"You'll get your first picture here when you get your weapon. But...you can maybe make some memories."

It was a simple gift, and yet, Oni felt awful. What was he doing with Dev? What was the point? She had just as much access to his records as Sen, and yet she hadn't known or cared that today wasn't just a day to get weapons.

For a split second, as Oni muttered, "Thank you," he also started thinking crazy. More than once, he opened his mouth to perhaps ask Sen for some help—some advice on what to do about Dev. Each time, he balked.

He missed his chance when someone walked in.

Bray.

"That's it. That's absolutely it. I give up. I really do."

Sen turned and folded his arms. The raise of his eyebrow meant amusement.

"One life-line, hell two. Just tell me how to make some headway with your damn cousin. I'm not asking for a relationship, just a conversation that lasts longer than two minutes."

His desperation had Oni turning to face him as well. Usually, Oni made it a point to never seem too interested in Dev, at least not obviously. He told himself that the life-line was his concern.

Sen's smile grew. "She's fifteen."

"And I'm seventeen," Bray argued.

"Exactly."

The boy still seethed but it was to no avail, especially when Sen waved goodbye with his fingers.

Bray stared him down. It was the first time he seemed intent on putting up a fight. Oni found himself taking on a stronger stance in anticipation.

After letting out a miserable sigh, Bray turned and walked out, grumbling, "It's not worth it."

His broad body might have been why the person standing out the door wasn't revealed until he was gone.

Oni blinked at Pleasant in surprise. And then he remembered the state of the room.

"Dev's probably sent her to clean," Oni explained.

Sen's guarded posture didn't change. He waited, much like Oni did. This was no surprise, Pleasant's avoidance of Sen. Three months ago, after she'd gotten her tablet and walked away from her first and only two-hour training, she'd never looked him in the eye again.

A lot of the day-to-day training involved physical conditioning and classes. As a consequence, Oni was often put with the seven girls, but Sen kept his distance.

Seeing her watch him now was surprising. Sen finally told Oni, "Go ahead and clean up. I'll doublecheck."

Oni hesitated but turned to do just that. The panels on the walls were easy enough to push back into place. They required secondary sequence codes, however, something Dev never trusted anyone to do. As much as Oni admired that Pleasant was being allowed to try to close up a room on her own, a part of him was equally offended that Dev hadn't trusted him to do it.

But why would she? He'd just acted like a mang-head around her to keep her close. That was going to be his present to himself, he decided—to give her some distance. To forget about her. What he needed was to practice holding his breath.

Once the lights dimmed and they stepped out, Oni completed the session with the final sequence code.

Sen didn't say anything, but he looked impressed. With all that in mind, Oni nearly jumped when he turned to find Pleasant still there. There was no need—they'd already done her task.

Her eyes were still focused on Sen for some time. She looked ready to say something. Oni scoffed at how timid she looked. In an instant, it reminded him of himself.

That was nonsense, he concluded.

Still, Sen waited. Oni did as well, looking between them. The moment Pleasant lost her nerve and turned to leave, Oni sighed inward.

"We'll get your weapon early," Sen muttered. "I'm through letting you play games."

They made their way to the armory in time to see Pleasant joining the others. Dev stood by the door, less than pleased.

"I asked you to retrieve him. Not have Sen do it. Is it so difficult to listen?"

Pleasant crossed both wrists then flicked her hands. That profane gesture shut Dev up.

With a scowl in place, Dev unhooked her matrix and entered yet another reprimand against Pleasant that she didn't know would ultimately be deleted by Sen by nightfall.

Upon seeing Oni, Dev tried to smile. "I've got the perfect weapon in mind for you."

Sen cleared his throat as Oni came to a stop before her, intent on setting a few things straight.

When Oni opened his mouth, the word, "Great," tumbled out.

Five minutes later, Oni stared down at the world's smallest gun. It even had a physical targeting guide that popped up when it aimed. A glance down the line at the seven sisters who had sizeable weapons, and even some rifles, had him dying inside.

Several snickers from behind him quieted when he turned to look.

"It's short range," Dev explained, "but so long as your target's not too far, you should be able to get it done."

Oni met her gaze. "It's a kid's gun."

Dev blinked at him. "Y—yes, but that's what I trained on."

Sen snorted out a laugh. "When you were five."

She shot him a look and he quieted.

With a sigh, Oni shook his head. He had to put a stop to this. He probably would have if he didn't turn the weapon over to see something marked on it.

Devlin.

Her name.

This was her actual gun.

The pit in his stomach returned and he closed his eyes and cursed himself.

Sen warned, "If you don't get a proper weapon to train on, you'll fall behind. Be reasonable."

Dev stepped forward. "He just needs a bit more gentle guidance. That's from my personal collection. I brought it with me for luck. Once he gets used to it, then he can select one officially. He only gets one selection."

She stared her cousin down and he stared right back.

"He needs a weapon."

"Well, he can't choose one yet. He needs one that's optimal."

"Or he could just adapt to whatever he chooses!"

She scoffed, turning her face away. Eventually, her eyes drifted down to the weapon, and she lost her nerve. "I suppose...it was a stupid idea."

Pleasant's scoff came with a grumble. "'Suppose it was."

Sen took the gun from Oni's hands and handed it back to his cousin. Dev's bronze skin was crimson when she reached for it. Oni snatched it before she could.

"It's okay. It's a good idea," he insisted. "Thank you."

Dev's face reddened. Finally, she smiled. "Good."

They were the only ones pleased. A glance at Sen out of the corner of Oni's eye showed a frown.

"So, you're going to waste valuable training time on this nonsense?"

Oni willed him to shut up.

Shaking his head, Sen muttered, "It's your funeral."