On Monday morning, the aroma of coffee and toasted bread wafted through the living room of the Asakura household.
Yuzuki, already changed into her outdoor clothes, set the breakfast on the table and looked up toward the tightly closed bedroom door at the far end of the hallway.
Since waking up, she had already knocked three times, and each time, the response from inside was a mumbled, “Five more minutes.”
Now, the door remained stubbornly shut, with not a sliver of light escaping from beneath it.
“Kizuna, today is your first day of school!” she called out toward the end of the hallway, raising her voice. She took off her apron, draped it over the back of a kitchen chair, and wiped her hands with a damp towel.
“We agreed you’d start school today, Class 1-A at Tachibana High School. Don’t make yourself late on your very first day.”
After a few minutes, the rustle of blankets came from the room, but there was no reply.
Star-trail was curled up on Kizuna’s blanket. When she tossed and turned, it rolled halfway across the pillow, its ears lopsided and its tail dangling over the edge of the comforter.
It opened its eyes and tapped the back of Kizuna’s hand with the tip of its tail. Kizuna pulled her hand back into the blanket, mumbling something incoherent.
Yuzuki stood outside the door, took a deep breath, and turned the doorknob to walk right in.
Kizuna was curled into a ball inside her blanket, with only a few stray tufts of hair sticking out from the top of her head.
Star-trail stood up on the pillow and shook its fur. It looked back and forth between the two of them, then wisely leaped off the pillow to hunker down in the corner of the desk, burying its face behind its paws.
It had probably already anticipated what would happen next.
Yuzuki walked over to the bed and grabbed the corner of the blanket.
Without hesitation, Yuzuki whipped the blanket away. As cold air rushed in, Kizuna curled up like a snail pulled from its shell, letting out an incoherent protest.
“...Just one more minute.”
“You said five minutes last time, and you ended up late anyway. Star-trail, you say something to her too.”
Star-trail lifted its face from behind its paws. After a brief thought, it hopped from the desk to the bedside and gently patted Kizuna’s hair with its paw.
Kizuna rolled over, reached out to scoop Star-trail into her arms, and buried her face in its belly. “Star-trail...” she muffled. “My sister is bullying me...”
Yuzuki stood with her hands on her hips, watching her younger sister act like a spoiled child with her face buried in her Contract Spirit’s belly.
In the end, she placed the school uniform at the foot of the bed and turned to leave the room.
At the dining table, Kizuna wore her brand-new Tachibana High School uniform, the ribbon at her collar tied crookedly.
She yawned as she poked at the fried egg on her plate with a fork. Star-trail was curled on her lap, stealthily taking a small piece of torn toast crust from her hand while Yuzuki’s back was turned to pour coffee.
Yuzuki sat down across the table with her coffee cup. Reaching over, she began to re-tie the ribbon on Kizuna’s collar. With a few deft movements of her fingers, a neat bow was formed.
“There. Eat up and hurry to catch the train. It’s not good to be late on your first day.”
Kizuna gave a muffled reply and stuffed the remaining toast into her mouth.
“Sis, that Magical Girl from the day before yesterday—do you really not know her?” Kizuna set down her glass of milk.
She had been wanting to ask ever since the performance ended the day before yesterday.
By the time she finished her performance and rushed to the fire exit, the person was already gone.
Only her sister had been standing at the entrance.
That night, Meruru had been standing at the entrance to the fire exit. Kizuna had rushed down from the stage still wearing her stage costume, not even having had time to put away her bow.
She had grabbed Meruru's sleeve and asked who that white-haired Magical Girl from just now was.
Meruru said she didn’t know.
“I don’t,” Yuzuki said, taking a sip of her coffee. “There are so many Magical Girls, it’s impossible for me to know everyone. Besides, she wasn’t wearing the Association’s standard combat uniform, nor was she wearing any organization's emblem. She might be an unregistered independent agent.”
Kizuna looked down at Star-trail on her lap, her fingers mindlessly stroking its ears. Star-trail squinted in enjoyment, its ears flattening softly against its head.
“But she’s really strong,” Kizuna said, almost to herself. “Incredibly strong. When she made her move, I didn’t even sense any mana fluctuations from her.”
Her hand paused on Star-trail’s back. “And the way she looked at me... It was as if she knew me.”
Yuzuki stood up, walked over to Kizuna, and reached out to gently pluck away a loose thread sticking out from her collar.
“Maybe she was just passing by, or maybe she saw a newcomer working hard on stage and wanted to lend a hand. Whoever she is, you’ll have other chances to thank her in person in the future.”
Kizuna looked up, blinked, and curled her lips into a smile. “True. Since she’s so strong, we’re bound to cross paths again sooner or later.”
Yuzuki Asakura placed the dishes into the sink and turned on the tap to rinse them, but her mind was on something else entirely.
Saying she didn't know that Magical Girl—that wasn't entirely true. She had seen Lightweaver before, and it hadn't been the first time.
It was during a weekend over a month ago, at an amusement park.
On a rare day off with no work scheduled, she had worn a face mask and a baseball cap, wrapping herself up to blend in as an ordinary tourist.
Roller coasters, crepes, that pink rabbit plushie at the shooting gallery... It had been a long time since she had spent a day so carefree, with absolutely nothing on her mind.
And then, the Erosion Body alarm blared.
Crowds surged from all directions. Screams, footsteps, and the crying of children melded together. She was squeezed right in the middle; her cap had been knocked off at some point, and the straps of her mask were digging painfully into her ears.
She wanted to head to the nearest staff passage to transform, but the flow of the crowd pushed her in the opposite direction.
Just then, a warm white light descended from above.
She landed right in the center of the plaza. Before her skirt had even fully settled, threads of light had already shot out from her fingertips, cleanly and swiftly locking down all movement paths of that medium-sized Erosion Body.
Without even landing to adjust her stance, she began pulling in the net while still in midair.
It happened so fast that she barely saw it; the Erosion Body was sliced into pieces in an instant.
Standing in the crowd, she had completely forgotten what she had originally set out to do.
When she saw the Wings of Freedom video, she had recognized Lightweaver at a single glance.
And on the stage the day before yesterday, she had immediately realized who it was as well.
Rate on N.U.
