Lightweaver and Meruru

The way that girl blinked and nodded at me on stage at the end was actually quite cute; it made the trip worthwhile.

Qiluo Tian Gong slowly closed the iron door of the fire exit.

Now that the trouble was resolved, she had to quickly change back to her ordinary identity. If Rei noticed she had been gone for too long, she would definitely get suspicious.

Lightweaver raised her hand, preparing to undo her transformation, but her footsteps halted halfway.

At the other end of the corridor, someone was standing at the turn of the fire escape stairs.

She wore a pink stage costume that Lightweaver knew all too well, the music-note decorations adorning her hemline casting a soft glow under the dim emergency lights.

She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, her fingertips gently tapping out a beat on her arm.

Her posture was completely different from when she had been by the vending machine.

Her presence seemed to brighten the dim fire exit corridor.

Meruru.

Although her silent disposal of the threat just now had been clean and swift, someone had still noticed.

This venue was her younger sister's debut stage, so it was only natural for her to set up a few sensing nodes here.

“You’re the one who dealt with that Erosion Body,” she said, tilting her head as she looked at Lightweaver.

She had probably rushed over from backstage the moment she sensed the mana fluctuations, but the battle was already over by the time she pushed open the door.

Instead of rushing in blindly, she had leaned against the corner and quietly watched the entire cleanup process.

Qiluo didn’t answer. She merely pushed out a fraction of the mana she had just withdrawn.

Letting a tiny spark of warm white light glow at her fingertips served as her silent acknowledgment.

“...Thank you.” When this word came out of Meruru’s mouth, it was completely different in tone from when she had said the exact same thing back at the vending machine.

She lowered her crossed arms and bowed slightly, the music-note decorations on her hem swaying gently with the movement.

“Not just because you stepped in when she needed help. If the situation just now hadn’t been handled properly, and the stage was disrupted or even cut short by the Erosion Body, her debut performance would have turned into a disaster.”

“That would be a devastating blow to any newcomer. You didn’t just protect her safety; you also protected the stage she worked so hard to stand on.”

Lightweaver stood there, suddenly at a loss for what to do with her hands.

She had originally planned to leave immediately after dealing with the Erosion Body, but Meruru’s words forced her to retract the step she had already taken.

Wow, to think I’d be thanked by a superstar.

Tsk. If anyone else said this, Lightweaver would probably just nod and say it was nothing, but hearing it from her felt entirely different.

The idol who stood under the spotlight, watched by tens of thousands.

Now, she stood in a dim fire exit corridor, bowing slightly to me in her capacity as Meruru.

Meruru’s fans, so this is what she’s like in your eyes.

But she’s not like that in front of me at all~

Cough, cough. Qiluo was actually a bit unaccustomed to being thanked so formally.

Usually, people thanked her by stuffing boba or cookies into her hands, which was a method she was much better at handling.

It wasn’t like she could say, “You’re welcome. Actually, I’m your sister’s Contract Spirit, and you mistook me for your fan by the vending machine earlier.”

“...She’s worth it.”

Meruru blinked.

She had probably expected Lightweaver to say something like, “It was nothing,” or “It was only right.”

“Do you know her?” Curiosity crept into Meruru’s voice.

“No,” Lightweaver answered quickly, giving her own honest response a perfect score in her head.

It wasn’t a lie; Lightweaver really didn’t know Seisou.

It was just that Qiluo Tian Gong knew her.

No, actually, it was just Star-trail who knew her.

She gently extinguished the mana she had released and turned to leave.

After taking a few steps, she paused, not looking back.

“...Your sister is quite good with the bow. Given time, she will stand on an even grander stage. You’re welcome.”

She waved her hand dismissively, pushed open the fire exit door, and stepped out into the night.

Meruru stared at the newly closed iron door.

Her sister is quite good with the bow...

She had never asked what Seisou’s weapon was, let alone mentioned that Seisou was her sister.

Yet, how did she know?

On the other side of the fire door, Qiluo Tian Gong leaned against the wall, pressing the back of her hand against her slightly warm cheek.

Fortunately, the corridor was dark enough that Meruru probably hadn’t seen her ears turn red after saying that final “You’re welcome.”

Qiluo Tian Gong leaned against the wall for a moment, pressing the back of her hand to her cheek. Only after confirming that her temperature had gone down did she head back down the corridor.

When she returned to her seat, Rei didn’t even turn her head. She reached out, grabbed her sleeve, and whispered in a very low voice.

“What took you so long! Did you miss it just now? Seisou suddenly turned toward the wings and smiled during the chorus! It wasn’t her stage smile!”

“It was that kind—you know, the kind of smile—like she saw someone who made her feel incredibly safe! I took a picture! It’s super blurry, but I got it!”

She shoved her phone screen in front of Qiluo. The photo was indeed very blurry; the spotlight was overexposed, and half of Seisou’s face was swallowed by the glare.

But the angle of her head was definitely not directed toward the audience.

“...Maybe she just saw a staff member cheering her on.”

“A staff member could make her smile like that?” Rei pulled her phone back, zooming in and out on the blurry photo repeatedly. Her excitement gradually melted into a sigh of deep satisfaction.

“But she was really amazing tonight. It’s my first time seeing a newcomer hit their high notes so steadily. When she bowed just now, I was waving my glow stick like crazy down here, and it felt like she looked right over.”

As the post-show crowd slowly filtered out of the performance hall, Rei packed up her two glow sticks and put them back in the paper bag, still scrolling through her phone as they walked.

Suddenly, she let out an incomprehensible shriek, nearly tripping on the steps.

“Tian Gong! Look, look, look—Seisou just posted her first update after the show!” She turned her phone screen around, showing Seisou’s official account.

The text was very short, just a single sentence, accompanied by a selfie in front of the backstage vanity mirror. The smile in the reflection carried the unique fatigue and satisfaction that comes after a performance.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.”

She handed the phone back to Rei and stuffed her hands into her pockets.