Leo nodded. He moved close, stepping into her space until they nearly touched. "Now, steady your body," he said, his tone gentle but commanding. "Every gun will have recoil. The stronger the gun, the harder it pushes back. Hold tight—tighter than you think. Not like the movies, alright?"

Raphael nodded, swallowing, her grip on the pistol tightening. Her stance was stiff with nerves and something else, a fluttering she couldn't name.

"Now engage your core," Leo murmured, his voice almost in her ear.

"Hmm?" Raphael's breath shivered.

Leo's hand slid to her abdomen, fingers curling lightly over the soft curve. She flinched, a startled sound catching in her throat, her skin blazing beneath his touch.

"Here. Tighten up," Leo whispered, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath and the steady thrum of his body. "Feel the tension. You remember how we move when we fight? It's the same. Every muscle ready."

Raphael nodded, but her cheeks were burning now, her whole body trembling as Leo pressed closer, his arms guiding hers, his chest warm against her back. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room, caught in a forbidden.

Noticing her hand shaking, Leo's fingers slipped over hers, his grip strong and reassuring. "Hold the gun tightly. Don't let it shake, no matter what. If you tremble, then this will become your enemy"

Raphael's eyes flicked up to his face—so serious, so focused. Her heart hammered against her ribs, wild and uneven.

"O-Okay," she whispered, breathless. Leo smiled, gentle and patient, and eased the headphones over her ears, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek.

"When I tap your finger, fire. Trust yourself," he said.

Raphael nodded, barely trusting her own voice.

Leo tapped her finger—her body responded, finger squeezing the trigger.

BANG!

The shot jolted her, the force pushing her back—but Leo was there, steady as a wall, his arms strong around her waist, catching her before she could stumble. Her entire back pressed against his chest, her hands trembling.

He parted her headphones gently, speaking close, his lips almost brushing her ear. "I've got you. Just do it again. I'm right here."

Raphael stared up at him, lost in the seriousness of his eyes... so close, so different from the boy she thought she knew.

Her pulse raced, every inch of her tingling.

Why did Leo seem so much more mature now, so much more… dangerous?

Was it because he was teaching her, guiding her hands, holding her close in the blue-lit haze of gun smoke and silence?

She didn't know the answer, but she found herself craving another lesson.

She felt small in that moment, yet… protected?

Raphael swallowed, her throat tight, then steadied herself and raised the pistol again. She squeezed the trigger, again and again, until the magazine finally clicked empty. Her arms trembled as the last echo faded.

When the target paper rolled toward them, Raphael removed her headphones, staring down at her hands—they were still vibrating, as if the shock of firing hadn't faded from her skin.

A weird, almost electric feeling crawled through her, leaving her heart pounding and her breath shaky.

"Don't worry… you'll get used to it," Leo murmured, stepping closer. He gently brushed at the corner of her eye, thumb catching a tear she hadn't realised had fallen.

Why was she crying?

He saw the moisture there. "Does it hurt?" Leo asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Raphael shook her head, biting her lip. "I-It's just… I never thought I'd actually pull the trigger. Even I gave in to violence," she admitted, her voice trembling.

Leo managed a weak smile, but his eyes turned serious, "Sometimes, there are things that can't be solved without violence. Not in this world."

Raphael's eyes shimmered, "Still…"

"If you don't want to do this… It's okay. You can stay home," Leo said, with sincerity, "Honestly, I'd rather have you safe at home—"

She cut him off, voice shaking, "While you go into danger alone? No chance." She reached for his cheek, her hand trembling but determined, eyes blazing.

"I'd rather risk everything than let my only family walk into danger alone." Her fingertips lingered, the touch almost desperate, as if she could anchor them both with one small gesture.

"Raphael…" Leo muttered, his voice low and warm, torn between gratitude and guilt.

How could he push her away now, with her so close, so determined?

"Leo," Raphael whispered back, her lips curling into a fragile, gentle smile as her fingers caressed his cheek. The space between them shrank, the world outside fading until only their breath and the heat of their bodies remained.

They leaned closer, not sure who moved first.

Raphael's gaze darted from his eyes… down to his lips. She felt the pull, the trembling ache of anticipation.

Leo's gaze mirrored hers.... hesitant, longing, barely daring.

Their faces inched closer.

They could almost taste the kiss before it happened.

Suddenly—

Starrrrrreeeeeeee!

Azrael and Ophis, both peeking from behind the partition, stared at them with wide eyes and poorly hidden grins.

"What do you think?" Azrael whispered, barely keeping her amusement in check.

Ophis stared blankly for a moment, then smirked, her voice sly. "She'll be fucking him soon enough."

"Thought so," Azrael agreed, trying not to laugh.

The voices carried, echoing across the range just as Raphael and Leo froze, their moment shattered.

Raphael's face flushed beet red, all heat and mortification. "What the hell are you talking about, you little brats!" she shouted, whirling around!

"Oops, she got angry~" Ophis sang, backing away.

"Yep, yep… total angry~" Azrael echoed, both girls giggling with a sly, mischievous glee as they scurried back to their own space.

Raphael's cheeks burned, her teeth gritting as she glared at Leo—who, just as flustered, quickly looked away, hiding behind his hand as if to mask the nearly-shared kiss.

Her heart skipped a beat, horror and desire twisting together as she realised just how close they'd come to crossing that line. For a breathless second, she wondered if she would have stopped, or if she even wanted to.

"A-Anyway, let's continue. You on your side and... I will on mine," she stammered, voice quivering with embarrassment, a rosy flush on her cheeks that didn't fade.

Leo awkwardly nodded and shuffled to his side of the room, glancing at her with anxious, sidelong eyes.

Meanwhile,

Ophis braced herself, shoulders tense, while Azrael watched her closely, hawklike. "That's it... good. Concentrate. Focus on the target—let it fill your mind, and..."

BANG!

Azrael frowned while Ophis grinned wide, childlike, as she eyed the smoking gun with a look of awe and wonder. "So cool~," she breathed, almost reverent, and fired again, reckless and gleeful as if the weapon was a precious treasure found after a lifetime of longing.

She had wielded magic before, conjured flame and blood, but... without the protection of spells, feeling the recoil shuddering through her arm, the sharp report echoing in her ears—she felt an electrifying excitement.

Yet, beneath the thrill, a question haunted her.

Did she need this gun?

She was a vampire. She could have ended the target with a flick of her will, a whisper of power.

Why then?

Because...

"Now," Azrael urged quietly, voice gentling, "try to think—who do you want to fire at? Who is your enemy?" Her eyes never left Ophis's trembling hand.

Ophis tilted her head, confusion flickering across her pale face. "What do you mean? My enemy?"

Azrael laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Imagine... your father standing where the target sheet is. See him there, Ophis. Just for this moment, let yourself believe."

Ophis raised one eyebrow. Still, she nodded. She turned, took aim, eyes narrowing as she pointed the gun at the paper.

"Close your eyes," Azrael whispered, words as soft as wind, "Remember your father's face. Recall how he looked, the way his presence filled a room—think of who he was, not just what he did. Think. Go deeper..."

Ophis's eyelids slid shut, lashes trembling.

"Did you imagine it?" Azrael's voice seemed to echo inside her mind.

Ophis nodded once, tight and shaky, the image of her father looming in her mind.

"Now, slowly open your eyes," Azrael murmured, "and focus on the target sheet. Mix the intention with that memory. Let them become one."

Ophis opened her eyes.

She saw.... no longer a circle target, but a shape taking form, swirling shadowy, monstrous, so vividly real it made her breath hitch. "Father... Father..." she whispered, voice ragged, staring at the swirling circles, her mind painting a man she once Lo... No, Forced to Love!

Forced to Love in Fear!

That pale skin, like sculpted marble touched by moonlight...

Her hand trembled violently, sweat beading across her knuckles.

Those pointed ears, too sharp...

Her lips parted, dry and trembling, as she swallowed, her throat tight with terror.

That grey hair... framing a face forever frozen in cruelty...

Her finger, so close to the trigger, shivered uncontrollably.

Those deep, dark robes—she remembered them trailing across the floor, wrapping her nightmares in velvet shadows, suffocating her hope every night.

Her chest heaved, breath stuttering, the world narrowing to just that target, that memory, that relentless horror.

Those crimson eyes, red as dying embers, boring into her soul, her will, her very self...

Her legs buckled as she fought the urge to collapse, breath caught, heart hammering against her ribs.

"Ophis, calm down," Azrael's voice called, distant, lost behind the roaring in her ears. But Ophis could not hear her.

The lips in her vision curled into a wicked, gleaming smirk, sharp as a dagger.

"S-sorry... Sorry, sorry, DON'T KILL ME!!" Ophis screamed, her eyes squeezing shut as terror took her, and her finger jerked, slamming the trigger.

BANG!!!

Azrael flinched, stumbling back, fear flashing in her eyes... a split-second worry Ophis might lose control, might point the gun her way next.

When Ophis opened her eyes. She had fired at her father... she had actually pulled the trigger on the nightmare!

"H-he is bleeding! Look... Hahaha," Ophis gasped, laughter twisting into something wild and manic, her whole body quaking, legs shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at the bleeding hole in the target's head.

In her mind, blood poured... But the vision did not end.

Her father did not fall. He didn't die. Instead, his lips curled higher, Ophis's heart stopped in her chest, a moment frozen between breaths.

"Oh? Looks like someone is being disobedient. Should I remind you of your place, my unfaithful child?" His voice was cold, slicing into her bones.

Ophis staggered back, terror overwhelming her. "N-No... No, no..."

"Ophis, snap out of it!" Azrael shouted.

Ophis, trembling violently, pointed the gun around the area, wild and lost.

"I am disappointed in you—all of your siblings, all the same. Nothing but a waste of my blood... Disgusting," her father spat, voice echoing inside her mind, old scars torn open.

"S-Stop it... Stop it!! STOP IT!!" Ophis screamed, sobs breaking her voice as she fired the gun blindly, the sound echoing off stone.

BANG!

BANG!!

Azrael dove behind the wall, teeth gritted, 'This is why I hate dealing with brats!' Just as she was about to use her gun to stop her when,

Thud!

Leo appeared... His breath came in hisses with mana.

"I will slit you all just like your mothers!!" her father's specter shrieked, lunging at her, arms outstretched, a nightmare come alive.

"NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!" Ophis shrieked, voice shattering, her whole body shaking as she pulled the trigger again, desperate, lost in horror. Before she could hurt herself, Leo dashed forward, seizing her hand, knocking the gun from her grasp.

Thuddd!

The gun clattered across the floor. Azrael darted out, scooping it up, keeping her eyes on Ophis.

"It's okay, Ophis... Look at me... Look at me, Ophis," Leo said, voice low and urgent, cupping her cheeks, forcing her to see him—only him—in that moment.

Ophis gasped for air, breath ragged, blinking rapidly as Leo's face came into focus, the nightmare dissolving around him.

"LEOOOoooooo!!" Ophis wailed, collapsing into his arms. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder.

Leo's expression tightened with worry as he stroked her back, "It's alright... I'm here... don't worry," he whispered, holding her tightly.

He looked at Azrael and Raphael, who were moving closer, eyes wide with concern.

Azrael let out a shaky sigh... her plan to confront Ophis's fear had backfired, the scars far deeper than she'd guessed.

"Sorry," Azrael murmured.

Raphael's face fell, sadness etched deep as she watched Ophis cry.

Leo bit his lip, pressing his hand to Ophis's back.

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