By the time the sun stretched golden fingers across the sky, Luna had returned indoors after her run, cheeks flushed and hair damp at the nape. She went straight to the kitchen, where a small team of staff blinked in surprise.
"I'll handle breakfast today," Luna said, tying an apron around her waist with a decisive grin. "Let me show my appreciation, at least once."
The scent of sizzling bacon soon filled the kitchen, mingling with the earthy aroma of rosemary and garlic from the potato salad. She plated everything neatly, then arranged the table with care—juice, coffee, and a small bowl of fresh fruit on the side.
Emmerich entered the dining room a moment later, suit jacket off, sleeves slightly rolled, tablet in hand. He paused mid-step when he saw the breakfast spread.
"…This wasn't the kitchen staff," he said, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.
Luna sat at the table, half-hiding a pleased smirk. "Nope. Surprise. I cooked."
Emmerich blinked. Slowly set his tablet down. "…You?"
"Don't look so shocked, Dad," Luna said, leaning on her elbow. "You've been eating dinner with me every night. You didn't have to, but you did. I realized I haven't really thanked you."
She nodded toward the food. "So… here. Bacon, eggs, and my slightly elite potato salad. My way of saying thanks."
There was a beat of silence before Emmerich's expression shifted—his lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes shimmered faintly. He reached for his fork, then hesitated, looking at her with a warmth few had ever earned from him.
"…Thank you, Luna."
She waved a hand, suddenly shy. "Don't get so sentimental. It's just breakfast. And not the last one I'll make, either. I can't exactly buy you anything you don't already have, so brace yourself. Homecooked meals might be the only surprise I can offer."
Emmerich chuckled, the tension of his usual stoic demeanor cracking. "You say that like it's a punishment."
"Well, if you don't cry at my soup next time, I'll consider it a win."
They shared a small laugh, the silence afterward filled with mutual warmth and unspoken affection.
After a few bites, Emmerich wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked at her thoughtfully. "By the way… I've found your self-defense instructor."
Luna tilted her head. "Really? Who?"
"A young woman named Cherry," Emmerich said. "An elite, no political ties or family safety nets—everything she earned was by her own effort. She's discreet, well-trained, and not the type to go easy on you. Which is exactly why I trust her."
Luna grinned. "Sounds promising. Looking forward to meeting her this afternoon."
Emmerich nodded, then added with a smirk, "She's also immune to flattery, so don't try any of your clever lines."
Luna mock gasped. "Me? Flatter? Never."
As they finished their breakfast, the gentle clink of silverware was joined by something rare in the estate: laughter, light and easy.
The therapy room, warm with sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, had grown more familiar to Luna these past few days. She sat cross-legged on the plush chair across from Dr. Falne, who wore her usual serene expression, tablet in hand and listening attentively.
"I've decided to learn self-defense," Luna said, arms loosely folded as she tried to sound more casual than it really was. "My dad arranged an instructor for me. Her name's Cherry."
Dr. Falne's brows rose at that, the calm mask slipping into something closer to surprise. "Cherry? As in the Cherry? Elite-level, private-sector combat operative? That Cherry?"
Luna blinked. "…I guess so?"
A soft laugh escaped the therapist, more amused than disbelieving. "You're in capable hands, Luna. Very capable."
"You know her?"
"Not personally," Dr. Falne said, leaning back with a half-smile. "But I owe her more than I can repay. A few years ago, I was being stalked by a former partner of a patient—he was extremely dangerous and unpredictable. Cherry intervened before he could harm me. She was like a ghost: fast, decisive, no theatrics. Just precision. I didn't even see her arrive, just heard the guy hit the ground."
Luna's eyes widened. "That sounds like something out of a spy novel."
"It felt like one," Dr. Falne said with a wry chuckle. "But more importantly, it's good that you're taking this step. Learning to defend yourself doesn't just prepare your body—it teaches your mind not to freeze when fear creeps in. The physicality of it can help ground you. You'll begin to associate action with control, not helplessness."
Luna nodded slowly, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "That's what I want. I don't want to feel powerless ever again."
"And you're already ahead, Luna," Dr. Falne said gently. "The fact that you're aware, that you're reaching for tools—that's progress. Trauma doesn't vanish, but it becomes something you carry with strength, instead of something that drags behind you."
Luna smiled faintly at that, a little more hopeful than before.
After the session, she stepped into the hallway where the light was harsher, more real—but it didn't bother her. Not today.
By the time lunch rolled around, Luna met Emmerich at the estate's solarium, where the light filtered through glass-paneled walls, casting soft shadows across the table. Fresh salad, grilled salmon, and a carafe of lemon water were already waiting.
Her father glanced up from a file, his expression relaxing when he saw her. "Therapy go well?"
"Yeah," Luna said, sitting down. "Dr. Falne approves of Cherry. Apparently, she once saved her life."
Emmerich paused with his fork mid-air. "...She told you that?"
Luna nodded. "Said Cherry's like a ghost. Stealthy. Effective. You really weren't kidding about her being elite."
Emmerich allowed himself a rare, small smile. "She's the best I've worked with. And she doesn't just teach how to fight—she teaches how to read a situation, how to assess a threat, how to keep calm under pressure. She's not flashy, but she's thorough."
Luna chewed thoughtfully. "Now I'm even more curious. What kind of person is Cherry?"
Emmerich raised an eyebrow. "You'll find out this afternoon. But one thing you should know—she doesn't sugarcoat things. Don't expect her to go easy on you because you're my daughter."
Luna grinned. "Good. I'm not interested in being coddled."
Her father's gaze softened. "That's what I'm counting on."
And with that, they ate quietly, a sense of anticipation hanging between them like the silence before a first step onto unknown ground—where someone named Cherry awaited, and a stronger Luna was ready to meet her.
Emmerich led Luna down a long, hidden corridor beneath their estate—one she'd never even noticed before. The further they went, the cooler the air became, lit with subtle overhead lights embedded in sleek steel and stone walls. When they reached the end, Emmerich placed his palm on a biometric scanner, and a silent hiss signaled the opening of a thick, matte-black door.
Beyond it was a sight that made Luna slow her pace, her eyes wide.
"Whoa…" she breathed, stepping into the vast underground training facility. It wasn't just a gym—it was a full-scale tactical arena, with modular walls for obstacle training, a fully mirrored sparring hall, weapon racks (thankfully empty for now), medical stations, and even a shooting range sealed behind reinforced glass. Everything was pristine but clearly well-used.
"This… is like something straight out of a spy movie," Luna said, awe coloring her voice as she spun around slowly. "How do we even have this?"
Emmerich chuckled, hands in his pockets. "The estate was built with contingencies in mind. And… well, training operatives requires more than treadmills and yoga mats."
Luna stopped mid-step and blinked. "Wait. Are you serious?"
He only gave her a mysterious smile.
Luna frowned at him. "That was not a no."
But before she could pry further, they arrived at a more secluded section of the training complex—a smaller, more intimate sparring room with padded floors, a few benches, and racks of exercise tools.
Standing in the center was a young woman, maybe a year or two younger than Luna, dressed in form-fitting, flexible exercise clothes. Her crimson hair was short and tousled, her eyes sharp and assessing even before Luna stepped fully into view.
"Luna," Emmerich said, his tone gentler now. "This is Cherry. Cherry, my daughter."
Cherry's eyes flicked over Luna without expression. "She looks soft."
Luna blinked.
Emmerich sighed but kept his cool. "And this is Cherry, Luna's instructor. She's younger than you, but her resume would make veterans sweat."
Cherry gave a short nod. "Let's get a few things straight."
Then she turned to Emmerich with narrowed eyes. "You. Out."
Emmerich raised an eyebrow. "I'm not interfering. I'm just—"
"You're a distraction," Cherry said bluntly. "You didn't introduce a trainee. You introduced your daughter. The way you spoke, the way you stood in front of her just now, gave everything away. I've seen your kind before—when something's precious to you, you hover, whether you know it or not."
Luna blinked, stunned at the casual way Cherry called her father out.
Emmerich looked… amused.
"You're not wrong," he said at last, tipping his head. "Fine. I'll be upstairs."
He glanced at Luna with a faint smile. "You'll do fine."
Then he left without another word, the door sliding shut behind him.
Cherry turned fully to Luna, arms crossed. Her expression didn't soften.
"If you're expecting me to go easy on you because you've been through trauma, don't. I don't coddle. And if you think this is something you can quit the moment it gets too hard, walk out now."
Luna's spine straightened, overwhelmed but unwilling to step back. "I'm not quitting. No matter how hard it gets."
There was a beat of silence.
Then, Cherry nodded once, sharp and satisfied. "Good."
She cracked her knuckles and stepped into the center of the mat. "Then get ready, soft girl. Your first lesson starts now."
And so it began.
The moment the session began, Cherry took two steps back, eyes unblinking, tone cold and matter-of-fact.
"Attack me."
Luna blinked, startled. "W-wait, just—like that?"
"Now."
Still trying to process, Luna hesitated. It cost her.
In a blur of motion she didn't catch, the next thing she knew she was flat on the mat, breath puffed out of her lungs with a soft oof. She blinked at the ceiling, stunned.
Cherry stood over her, unbothered. "Hesitation gets you floored. Again."
Luna scrambled up, cheeks burning, and this time rushed forward, unsure, her movements clumsy but determined.
The floor met her again, swift and uncompromising.
Cherry adjusted her wrist wraps calmly. "Again."
Luna bit back a groan and stood. "You're not gonna show me how to block or anything first—?"
"I am. With your body." Then Cherry suddenly stepped into her space, and in eerie precision, tapped several points along Luna's collarbone, ribs, and just beneath her chin. "These are your vitals. Aim for mine. If you can reach them."
Luna hadn't even seen her move. Just... felt her.
Cherry stepped back and nodded. "Go."
This time, Luna took a breath and tried to remember exactly where those touches had been. Her palms felt clammy. Her heart pounded—but her eyes locked onto Cherry, now seeing not a girl younger than her, but a wall of unshakable steel.
She lunged forward with more intention, aiming for the ribs. But Cherry barely shifted. A soft brush. A foot behind Luna's heel. A twist. Luna went flying—again.
Time blurred.
She attacked. And fell. And attacked again.
Each time, she managed to move slightly faster, slightly sharper. Cherry's words were minimal—guiding only when necessary, or tapping her shoulder before a fall to hint at her balance point. Luna began to react instinctively. Her mind stopped racing with doubts and instead followed Cherry's lessons—feel the rhythm, don't hesitate, move through the discomfort.
And then—once, just once—Luna managed to twist and block Cherry's incoming sweep.
"Ha—!"
And then bam—a sharp flick behind her knee, and Luna was on the ground again, groaning.
Cherry stared down, lips curled in a rare, amused smirk. "It's not over until I say it's over."
Luna groaned into the mat. "Noted."
By the time the session finally ended, Luna lay sprawled, sweat-soaked, her arms trembling from effort, body sore with bruises she could already feel blooming.
Cherry, on the other hand, walked toward the door like she'd just picked up an espresso.
"Same time tomorrow," she said, voice casual, unbothered. "Don't be late."
And with that, she was gone.
Luna exhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Her limbs ached. Her pride was thoroughly humbled. But…
She smiled.
Because in her mind, she was already replaying every move, every fall, every unexpected moment of clarity. She could see how Cherry moved now, even if barely.
I'm getting it, she thought, exhausted but alight. Little by little. I'm actually getting it.