“Is that Rin-nee calling?”
“Yeah.” Yuki turned her phone screen toward Qiluo. The name “Rin-nee” lit up on the caller ID next to a simple profile picture.
It was a photo of the two of them taken one winter. The sisters stood under a snow-dusted ginkgo tree, Rin's hand resting on Yuki's shoulder. Neither of them really knew how to smile, and their expressions were exactly the same.
“She said she's picking me up on her way back to have dinner together.”
“That's nice,” Qiluo said, patting her hand. “Go on.”
For Qiluo, there had never been anyone waiting for her like that.
“But—” Yuki looked at their still-intertwined hands. The sentence that had just been interrupted was still stuck in her throat.
She knew that once this opportunity was missed, she didn't know when she would gather the same courage again.
Being able to get as far as mentioning “what I wanted to say just now” was already the bravest thing she had done in months.
“What I wanted to say just now—”
“Tell me next time,” Qiluo said, letting go of her hand. “I'm not going anywhere anyway.”
Reluctant to leave, Yuki stood up, pushed the folding chair back into place, and looked back once more as she reached the door.
Qiluo Tian Gong leaned against the headboard and waved to her, the very last glow of the sunset draped perfectly over her shoulders.
Yuki etched this image into her memory and gently closed the door of the nurse's office behind her.
The phone in her pocket buzzed again. Her sister said she had parked at the usual spot.
The black sedan waiting by the side gate had its hazard lights blinking. Rin Kurokawa sat in the driver's seat. Seeing her younger sister open the door and slide into the passenger seat, she closed the documents she had been reading and tossed them into the back.
“Seatbelt. Hungry? A new ramen shop just opened next to the hospital. Apparently, they simmer their tonkotsu broth for twelve hours.”
Yuki pulled her seatbelt across and buckled it, nodding. “Are you not busy today, Sis?”
“I am, but there's always time for dinner.” Rin started the car, adjusting the heater to a temperature that was just warm enough to heat their hands.
If you're busy, why did you still come pick me up...
Yuki gazed at the passing streetscape outside the window, her hand unconsciously drifting to rest over her chest.
She had been so close to telling Qiluo Tian Gong those words she had kept buried deep in her heart for so long. Even now, just thinking back on it made her heart pound wildly.
If her sister's call had come just ten seconds later, she would probably be hiding at home right now, burying her face in Star-trail's belly, too embarrassed to face anyone.
“Sis,” Yuki suddenly spoke up when the car stopped at the next red light. “Have you ever had times when you wanted to say something but didn't dare to?”
Rin pressed down a bit harder on the brake to ensure the car was completely stationary, then turned her head to look at her sister.
“Yes. Even now.”
...
Now that they had all left, the nurse's office was finally quiet.
Qiluo Tian Gong buried her face in her pillow.
She could hear her own breathing, muffled and amplified by the pillow.
Star-trail poked its head out from beside the pillow and tapped her earlobe with its tail, leaving a cool sensation.
“...So tired.”
Not just physically, but mentally too.
Now, her tightly strung nerves could finally relax.
She rolled over from her stomach onto her back, taking the pillow off her face to rest it on her chest. With her hands resting on the pillow, she stared at a tiny black dot on the ceiling.
She had noticed it during the day. She couldn't tell if it was a nail hole or a mark left by some insect.
She stared blankly at the black dot, her brain running at the absolute minimum power. She didn't want to think about anything, nor did she want to do anything.
Ta-da~
She voiced the sound effect in her mind.
Phones really were wonderful things. Qiluo fumbled around under the blanket until her hand brushed against the cool casing of her phone.
The blue-white light reflected off her face, shrinking into two tiny squares in her pupils.
Qiluo squinted, lowering the screen brightness by two notches. She turned onto her side and propped her phone against Star-trail, who was lying beside her pillow.
Star-trail let out a disgruntled rumble, but it maintained its position nonetheless, acting as a dutiful phone stand.
In the past, when Qiluo lay in bed, she could only relax by reading a book.
Now that she had a phone, the time it took to get information was drastically shortened. She could find out what was happening in the outside world just by lying in bed.
Time to scroll through social media and see if there was anything interesting today.
“Meruru spotted at Tachibana High School?!”—followed by a red “Viral” tag. The view count had already surpassed a million.
“Seina and Meruru are actually sisters?!”—accompanied by a photo of the two together.
“Meruru, Lightweaver, dancing”—clicking into this one revealed content even more explosive than the first two combined.
How on earth did these people get information so fast? The performance had barely ended, and yet the trending topics were already lined up.
Qiluo's brow furrowed deeper and deeper. She curled her legs up, propping the pillow against her knees as she held the phone in front of her face.
Three of the top ten trending topics were related to her. She tapped into the first one, which showed her standing in the center of the stage, bathed in the spotlight.
Her hat had just been taken off, and her expression still held a trace of bewilderment she hadn't managed to hide in time.
Her brow was slightly furrowed, her mouth parted just a bit, and her eyes were squinted against the sudden glare of the bright lights. Yet, her pupils reflected the purple glow of the crowd's glow sticks, looking as if a handful of crushed stars had been scattered into her eyes.
It was taken incredibly clearly.
Was that really my expression back then?
This is way too... silly.
Normally, she would never show such an expression because she was always predicting, always one step ahead of her enemies.
But today on stage, she had been predicted by Meruru. This realization made her highly annoyed.
The caption read: “An unexpected encounter with the real Lightweaver at the Tachibana High School festival! She literally glows!”
The comments had already broken ten thousand. The top comment was “Who is Lightweaver?”, followed by hundreds of explanatory replies.
Qiluo scrolled down. Another hot topic was a close-up of Meruru pinning the emblem on her. The camera was zoomed in tight, catching Meruru's hand just as it brushed her collar.
The composition of this photo was extremely clever, creating a subtle visual dynamic of interaction between the two of them.
She hadn't noticed these details at the time.
The distance between them had been so close that Lightweaver could smell the faint scent of Meruru's perfume.
Back then, all her attention had been focused on “making sure Meruru didn't pull any ridiculous stunts on stage.” She had absolutely no headspace to think about things like perfume or stray hairs.
Now, looking at this photo, the details suddenly came rushing back.
Her memory was annoying like that, always storing every single sensory detail from the scene perfectly intact, regardless of whether she had consciously paid attention to them at the time.
The comment section had completely derailed. The top comment read, “I approve of this marriage!” followed by a thread of stickers that stretched hundreds of replies deep.
“Approve of what?! Marriage with whom?! Ridiculous!”
Meruru and I are absolutely not in that kind of relationship!
Qiluo slammed her phone face-down onto the pillow.
Star-trail poked its head out from beside the pillow, only to be unceremoniously scooped up and given a rough petting.
Picking her phone back up, another trending topic popped up: “Seina and Lightweaver dancing together.”
In the video, Seina was spinning her around. A screenshot of Kizuna leaning close to whisper in her ear was zoomed in, and the comment section was filled with “So sweet!”, “I ship them!”, and “Lightweaver dotes on Seina so much.”
Someone had even circled her slightly reddened ear at the end of the dance, adding the caption: “Proof of Lightweaver blushing!”
She backed out of this trending topic, took a deep breath, and tapped into the official account of Wings of Freedom.
Night Sakura had posted a new update three minutes ago: “Thanks to everyone who came to support us today! And a big thanks to our Lady Lightweaver for taking the stage. What does this prove? It proves that what is meant to be will always find a way.”
The attached photo was a side profile of her taken secretly by Night Sakura backstage. The lighting was dim, and her white hair was still clinging to threads of light she hadn't had time to retract.
The top comments were all: “Lightweaver finally showed her face!” and “Requesting more high-res photos!”
Qiluo Tian Gong continued to scroll down, her feelings growing increasingly complicated.
Rate on N.U.
