When they walked out of the aquarium, the sun was already setting in the west, its light turning from deep gold to warm orange, dyeing the plaza in front of the station a honeyed hue.
To think today was already ending like this. The aquatic animals of this world were quite beautiful, unlike in her original world where the oceans were occupied by the Sea Race and people weren't even allowed to look at them!
The two of them stood at the intersection outside the ticket gates. Yuki Kurokawa adjusted the strap of her crossbody bag, and the jellyfish charm swayed between her fingers.
What is this dummy brewing now? Ever since they were at the dolphin show, she had been casting occasional, secretive glances at Qiluo, wearing an expression that practically screamed, "I have something important to say, but I haven't figured out how to say it."
Now, standing at the intersection, her fingers were clenching something again. She always did this before making a major decision.
She had made the exact same gesture when she gave her the cookies last time, and when she invited her to the aquarium the time before that.
Let me think... It had already been quite a while since she arrived in this world.
She had a solid grasp on most of the local common sense by now. Let's think about this situation.
In a post-date scenario like this... what would the guy—no, wait, the girl!—usually say?
Could she be planning to... ask Qiluo to call her by her first name? In this world, it seemed only close people called each other by their given names.
True, they had looked at the jellyfish wall together, eaten together, and even made plans to come back next time.
Continuing to call her "Kurokawa-san" would indeed be a bit too distant.
But as someone from another world, Qiluo felt absolutely no embarrassment about calling someone by their first name.
So, I'm definitely not going to bring it up first. I want to hear her say it herself. Let's see how long she takes to build up the courage.
“...Tian Gong-san. Thank you for coming with me today.”
“You're welcome. I wanted to see the jellyfish too.”
First, she expressed her happiness and thanked Qiluo for accompanying her. This was a classic Yuki-style opening, using politeness as a cushion to hide what she actually wanted to say in the next sentence.
“And—” Yuki Kurokawa's fingers let go of the jellyfish charm, gripping the strap of her bag once more. “I have a request. If it makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to agree.”
As expected, a request followed. She didn't dare look at Qiluo as she spoke, her lips pursed, the tips of her ears turning red again.
She tightened her grip on the bag strap and then released it. “You mentioned before that you're used to people calling you Tian Gong. But I was thinking... if it's alright, could I call you by your first name?”
Qiluo turned around to look at Yuki Kurokawa standing in the sunlight, the strap of her crossbody bag tightly squeezed in her palm, leaving a few faint creases.
She looked a bit like an anime girl confessing to the male protagonist.
She had even prepared a fallback plan like "if it makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to agree." She really didn't leave herself any room to breathe.
She probably thought this request was very selfish, didn't she? After all, in her experience growing up, making requests of others would always lead to being judged, labeled as greedy, or compared to her older sister.
Yet she still made the request. That in itself was a sign of immense trust in Qiluo. She believed Qiluo Tian Gong wouldn't respond with cold rejection, and Qiluo indeed wouldn't.
“Of course you can.”
“Then...” Yuki Kurokawa paused, raising her eyes to look directly at her. The setting sun painted her pupils a pale gold. “Qiluo.”
Hearing the name "Qiluo" come from Yuki Kurokawa's mouth felt different from when others said it.
She pronounced the name Qiluo had chosen for herself in this world with the utmost care, as if treating the word with the gravity it deserved.
She said my name so seriously. I need to respond seriously too.
“Then I can't keep calling you Kurokawa-san either.” Qiluo tilted her head in thought, her lips curving upward in the golden light of the setting sun. “Is it okay if I call you Yuki?”
“Yuki, I'm in your care from now on.”
Saying it again, Qiluo intentionally pronounced it with great care, as if chanting a magic spell.
Yuki's fingers froze on the bag strap.
It was an entirely novel feeling. She lowered her head, hearing her name called like this for the first time in her life. She needed a moment to confirm that the conversation that had just transpired was real.
When she raised her face again, her eyes were shimmering with light, but she tried her best to suppress the curve of her lips, keeping them from breaking into a full smile.
“...Mhm,” she said, and then, as if suddenly remembering something, added, “Qiluo, I'm in your care as well.”
The two of them stood at the intersection, gazing at each other as the setting sun stretched their shadows until they overlapped.
Honestly, though, saying goodbye in front of the station felt a bit too much like the ending of a date in an anime. Wasn't it a bit strange for two girls to do this?
But Yuki didn't seem to mind at all; she simply stood there, her ears flushed red.
“Well—I'm heading out first.” Qiluo took two steps back toward the station.
Standing where she was, Yuki repeated Qiluo's name in her heart over and over again, like holding the syllables in her mouth to memorize their shape. “Mhm!”
Qiluo turned and walked toward the station, looking back after a few steps.
Yuki was still standing at the intersection, the jellyfish charm swaying gently on her bag.
Seeing Qiluo look back, she raised her hand and waved. The gesture was still a bit clumsy, the angle of her arm slightly stiff, but the wave itself was full of earnest effort.
Qiluo waved back, then turned around and quickened her pace across the plaza.
Alright, alright, the aquarium trip is officially over. Now, it's time to head to the next destination.
When Qiluo pushed open the door to her apartment, the setting sun happened to slant through the window, slicing a golden band of light across the floor.
She placed the paper souvenir bag from the aquarium on the low table and pulled out the smallest jellyfish charm from inside.
It was the same style as the one hanging on Yuki's bag, only the tentacles were blue, whereas Yuki's were silver.
A familiar sensation came through her connection with Star-trail. Yuki had already arrived home and was hanging her crossbody bag on the hook in her entryway. The jellyfish charm glowed with a faint luminescence in the dim hallway.
She stared at the charm for a few seconds, gave it a gentle flick with her finger, and then walked into the living room. Everything was normal.
Qiluo also placed her jellyfish charm on the low table, flicking it gently with her finger. She watched it spin a fraction of a turn on the tabletop, the blue lines on its tentacles gleaming in the evening sun.
She stood up and drew the curtains. Outside, the sky was transitioning from orange-red to deep blue—that brief, ambiguous twilight between sunset and dusk.
She looked down at the time on her phone. There were less than two hours left until Wings of Freedom's debut livestream.
The process of transforming into Lightweaver was already second nature. Warm white light surged from the back of her hand, and the red highlights at the tips of her hair seemed to dance in the fading light of the setting sun.
Qiluo slipped out of the window, following her familiar route toward the Wings of Freedom headquarters.
Tonight was the debut livestream. As a temporary member and the so-called "mysterious trump card," even though she wouldn't be appearing on camera, she still had to be present.
She wondered how Night Sakura and the others were preparing. On one hand, seeing them pour everything they had into this livestream—from editing rough but passionate combat videos to Night Sakura staying up countless nights to write the script...
Their chaotic yet incredibly earnest drive had indeed touched her a little.
On the other hand, though they acted nonchalant in the face of pressure, they definitely still cared deep down.
A debut livestream was simply too important for a new organization.
Letting them know that Lightweaver hadn't run away was the greatest support she could offer.
Rate on N.U.
