Akane straightened at that, a quiet pride thrumming in her. Cosette(??)—a persona she crafted with her own hands, her true self. That was who she wanted to be when she protected Wolf and if he believed she was strong… well, maybe she could be.

Hamuko continued, speaking about her naginata, and Akane leaned forward intently. She nodded along, absorbing every word. “Maxing out leverage, huh? Makes sense. That thing’s not just dramatic—it’s got reach.” She filed that away, determined to show off for real next time.

Then—without a word—she reached into her belt and pulled out a small knife.

No. Not just a knife.

It was a dagger—thick and rugged, its worn handle wrapped in cracked leather like it had been carried through an apocalyptic wasteland. The blade gleamed under the Velvet Room’s eerie light, chipped in places but still sharp as hell.

“I’ve got a trick with this,” Akane said, holding it up with a grin that could’ve been described as mildly unhinged. “But for now, I really wanna see your naginata. I love a good polearm. Fun fact—they were originally used by women in Japan to defend their homes while the men were off at war.” She twirled the dagger between her fingers with effortless precision. “You could say it’s got girlboss history."

Zenkichi exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. “Why am I not surprised you know that?”

“Why are you not surprised I’m holding a knife?” Akane shot back, deadpan.

“That I’m trying not to think about.”