After a day that feels like it had teeth, Kenshiro catches his breath on the Temple steps—burned clothes, sore lungs, and the nagging math of progress that isn’t fast enough. The road to strength suddenly looks longer than he’d hoped, and the practical problem is obvious: he needs a way to fight that isn’t borrowed or improvised.

In the hush that follows, he turns from frustration to tinkering. Connection becomes strategy, distance becomes reach, and the bond with his companion shifts from comfort to capability. It’s not flashy; it’s thoughtful—small adjustments that open a wider field. By night’s end, the plan to “get stronger” isn’t abstract anymore. It has teeth of its own.

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