Qiluo slumped over the low table, stuffing the last bite of her pineapple bun into her mouth, her cheeks puffing out like a hamster's.
As she chewed, she realized she hadn't really done anything productive today, yet somehow, she felt like she had done a lot.
She had shown Kizuna around the school, and in the process, dug herself into a hole where she would have to wear Lightweaver's outfit.
She crumpled the wrapper into a ball, tossed it into the trash can, and stood up to brush the crumbs off her hands.
Since she had nothing better to do, she might as well drop by the Wings of Freedom's place.
Night Sakura had asked in the group chat multiple times about the school festival, but after the distraction of Kizuna's live performance, the topic had been dropped.
She could already picture Night Sakura sprawling on the sofa, whining like a jilted lover: “Lightweaver, you haven't visited in so long. We thought you'd been recruited by the Association.”
She used a cleaning spell to wash away the sticky pineapple bun crumbs from her fingers, then took her old coat from the wardrobe and draped it over her shoulders.
The glowing threads of her transformation surged from her fingertips, a warm white light spreading up her arms and enveloping her entire body.
A few seconds later, Qiluo Tian Gong had vanished from the apartment, and standing in the center of the room was the mysterious Magical Girl, Lightweaver.
She slipped out the window, closed it behind her, and took off across the rooftops.
The Wings of Freedom's base was unusually quiet today.
There was no sound of Kohinata catching up on her anime, no clacking of Amamiya playing video games, and not even the rapid click-clack of Night Sakura typing away on her keyboard.
A few bags of snacks lay open on the coffee table, and the soda cans were still cold to the touch, but the sofa area was completely empty.
Only the frosted glass door of Misa Tachibana's office let out a soft, warm glow, proving the place wasn't entirely abandoned.
Just as she was about to head toward the sofa, the door cracked open from the inside.
Night Sakura squeezed through the gap and closed the door behind her, her movements as stealthy as a thief.
When she looked up and saw Lightweaver, she froze instantly. She quickly shut the door tight behind her, leaned her back against it, and put on a smile so bright it was practically a confession of guilt.
“Lightweaver! What brings you here? Long time no see! What wind blew you in today—?”
Her voice was much more flustered than usual, and her fingers fumbled behind her back to make sure the doorknob was locked tight.
“...A typhoon.”
“Haha, that's quite a strong wind indeed! Have a seat, have some snacks—this bag of potato chips is a new flavor. Kohinata said it's delicious. She only ate half before she got full, so the rest is all yours!”
She pushed the snacks on the coffee table toward Lightweaver, using her body to block a stack of papers that looked like ledger sheets. Midway through, she suddenly remembered Lightweaver didn't like wasabi flavor, and awkwardly pulled the chips back a few inches.
Lightweaver didn't touch the snacks, nor did she immediately demand to know what they were up to.
Kohinata also poked her head out from behind the door, clutching a stack of sticky notes in her hand. “Lightweaver! Long time no see! Do you want some cream puffs? Amamiya went out to buy some, she'll be back in a bit.”
But she was immediately nudged by Night Sakura stepping lightly on her toe, prompting her to quickly hide the sticky notes behind her back.
“...What are you doing?” Lightweaver asked.
“Going over the accounts,” Night Sakura said without batting an eye, while Kohinata nodded vigorously beside her.
“And what else?”
“And—writing next week's training schedule.”
Amamiya pushed the door open and walked in, carrying a convenience store bag containing a few boxes of cream puffs.
Seeing Lightweaver, she paused for a fraction of a second. She maintained her usual half-asleep, aloof demeanor, but she took a noticeably longer route to the coffee table.
Steering clear of Misa Tachibana's office door, she placed the cream puffs on the side of the table closest to Lightweaver.
“For you,” Amamiya said.
Lightweaver sat down on the sofa, picked up a cream puff, and took a bite. A bit of cream squeezed out from the edge of the pastry, and she wiped it away with her finger.
“Go on with your accounts. Don't mind me.” She leaned against the sofa armrest, opened a manga volume someone had left on the coffee table, and flipped through a couple of pages.
Night Sakura and Kohinata exchanged a look and breathed a collective sigh of relief.
The two of them quietly retreated back into the office, the door shutting behind them to block her view.
Amamiya didn't follow them in. She sat opposite Lightweaver, pulled out her own portion of cream puffs from the bag, and began eating quietly.
Lightweaver turned another page of the manga without looking up. “What are they preparing?”
Amamiya's cream puff stopped inches from her mouth.
She seemed to weigh her options, but in the end, she simply put the cream puff back into its box. Her voice remained as flat as ever. “A surprise. For the Store Owner, on the day of the school festival.”
“What kind of surprise?”
Amamiya fell silent for another moment. Then she pushed her box of cream puffs toward Lightweaver, stood up, and headed toward the office. Before opening the door, she glanced back at Lightweaver. “I can't say, but you'll see.”
There was definitely more to those words.
Meaning, this surprise had something to do with her as well? Or rather, they assumed she would witness it with her own eyes on the day of the school festival.
Hmph, those idiots. Did they really think I was dying to know?
I'm not curious at all.
A surprise for the Store Owner on the day of the school festival, and they felt the need to keep it a secret from me.
Putting the clues together, it had to be that one thing Misa Tachibana had mentioned last time—the time capsule buried under the ginkgo tree at Tachibana High School.
They probably wanted to dig it up during the school festival and hold some kind of small ceremony.
I don't care to know anyway...
Qiluo closed the manga, set it on the coffee table, stood up, and walked over to the office door. She gave it two sharp knocks.
A series of hushed, hurried rustling noises came from behind the door, sounding like several people trying to hide things at once.
After a long pause, Night Sakura finally opened the door just wide enough to peek out with half her face. Her mask sat askew on her forehead, and her smile was excessively bright.
“What is it, Lightweaver? Were the cream puffs not good? The brand Amamiya bought might be too sweet. We'll get a different one next time—”
“I want to know too.” Lightweaver placed her hand flat against the door, preventing her from shutting it.
Night Sakura's smile froze. She glanced back. Kohinata was frantically stuffing something into a drawer, while Amamiya leaned against the window, using her body to block the desk behind her.
The three of them exchanged a brief look. Finally, Night Sakura sighed and opened the door all the way.
“...Come on in. But once you see it, you aren't allowed to say a word to anyone, and absolutely no telling the Store Owner beforehand.”
Night Sakura locked the door, and Kohinata finally reopened the bulging drawer. Amamiya stepped away from the windowsill, revealing a stack of printed sheets and several hand-drawn program drafts spread across the desk.
“Actually, we want to put on a small performance for the Store Owner on the day of the school festival,” Night Sakura said, smoothing out a crumpled program on the desk and pointing to the crooked handwriting.
“It won't be a formal stage or anything. Just in the little plaza behind the gymnasium. We'll set up a few chairs, hang a banner, and make it so anyone passing by can stop and watch.”
“And the Store Owner too!” Kohinata pulled a stack of hand-painted banners from the drawer. On them was written “Wings of Freedom Takeoff Commemoration,” decorated with a poorly drawn bird with lopsided wings.
“We want the Store Owner to go on stage too! She doesn't have to do much—just sit in her wheelchair and make an appearance with us. She used to be a real Magical Girl, so she'll definitely look incredibly cool up there.”
“Before that, we need to dig up the time capsule under the ginkgo tree. Unearthing our ten-years-ago selves and bringing them on stage with us will be better than any opening act.”
Night Sakura flipped the program sheet over. On the back was a simple sketch of a ginkgo tree with a small square drawn beneath it, labeled “Store Owner's Treasure” in highlighter.
They watched Lightweaver with nervous anticipation, likely worried she would laugh at them or refuse to join.
But how could Lightweaver possibly refuse something like this?
Even if she always complained about things being a hassle, she didn't dislike this feeling of everyone working together for someone's sake.
Rate on N.U.
