If her mother had been present, she would probably have frowned afterward and criticized her for being too emotional.
But she had already said it, and she had no intention of taking it back.
Yuzuki Asakura turned her head, her lips curving into a very faint smile.
Rin Kurokawa walked back down the seemingly endless corridor on the top floor of the inpatient department.
Walking to the elevator lobby, she pressed the button. The red numbers slowly ticked upward from the ground floor.
She stared at the flashing numbers, but her mind was elsewhere.
How had she managed to say something like that?
The elevator was still sluggishly crawling its way up.
Giving up on waiting, she turned and pushed open the door to the emergency stairs next to it.
Going down was faster than going up anyway, and she needed a short walk to clear her head.
The sound-activated lights in the stairwell flickered on the moment she stepped inside, their dim, yellowish glow barely illuminating the steps leading down.
A sound drifted down from one of the floors above.
Someone was singing.
It was a casual, low hum—as if soothing someone, or perhaps comforting herself.
Rin Kurokawa stood at the landing, tilting her head to listen for a moment.
The structure of the emergency stairwell was peculiar; the sound bounced off the walls repeatedly, making it difficult to tell which floor it was coming from.
She instinctively walked up one flight of stairs.
The sound-activated light above her went out. She remained silent, standing there to keep listening.
The singing grew clearer, the tone gradually taking shape.
It was a young woman's voice, clean and pure, without any of the polished feel that came from professional training.
The emotions hidden within every melody were laid completely bare in the air.
It was Yuzuki Asakura. She was singing to her sister.
She knew eavesdropping wasn't polite, but the melody seemed to wrap around her ankles, making her reluctant to break free just yet.
Rin Kurokawa had just stepped out of the inpatient department's main entrance when her phone vibrated.
Her mother's message was on the screen, phrased with her usual brevity.
No greetings, no preamble, just a single line of text:
"Yuki made a friend at school named Qiluo Tian Gong. Meet her when you come back next week."
She read the message over a few times.
She disassembled and rearranged every word in her mind, making sure she hadn't missed any hidden subtext.
Her sister had actually made a friend?
Rin locked her phone screen, slipped it back into her pocket, and resumed walking.
She suddenly realized she had received far too much information about her sister today.
She had an early shift tomorrow, a trip back home next week, and a meeting of unknown trajectory waiting for her at the family house.
On the train back to her apartment, she held onto the strap, standing in the corner of the carriage. Watching the street scenery rapidly recede outside the window, memories of Yuki as a child slowly surfaced in her mind.
The little girl wearing her kindergarten uniform, sitting on the living room floor watching Magical Girl anime, clutching a toy wand in her hand.
Little Yuki would look at the television screen and say in all seriousness, "I want to become a Magical Girl too," pointing her wand at the moon outside the window, waiting for herself to glow.
She had been so small back then, not yet knowing that one couldn't become a Magical Girl with just a toy wand.
Later, the Magical Girl anime was still airing, but Yuki's toy wand had vanished from the living room at some point.
It had probably been thrown into a non-recyclable trash bin along with her picture books.
Yuki never mentioned Magical Girls again after that.
She had locked away all her interests, like stuffing toys scattered across the floor into a cabinet, shutting the door, and sitting with her back against it, pretending the inside was completely empty.
Rin Kurokawa had seen it all.
But she had said nothing, not knowing in what capacity she should speak.
If she spoke as her older sister, she should have stood by Yuki's side and told her that she didn't need to give up the things she loved just to satisfy their mother.
If she spoke as the eldest daughter of the Kurokawa family, she knew what saying those words would entail.
It meant the sisters would have to stand in opposition to their mother together, and back then, Rin wasn't ready for that.
So she had chosen the most cowardly approach: pretending she didn't see.
Looking back now, she felt she had been far too cunning.
She had posed in front of her sister as a successful case of resisting their mother, using her academic performance and obedience to exchange for a certain degree of freedom.
But Yuki probably didn't know that her sister's freedom had been secured solely for herself, without winning a share for Yuki.
She had simply walked ahead on her own, occasionally pausing to wait for Yuki to catch up, but never once turning back to pull her along.
Now, someone else had accomplished what she couldn't.
Should she be grateful to this person, or should she scrutinize her?
Perhaps neither.
Perhaps she simply wanted to see with her own eyes what kind of person this transfer student named Qiluo Tian Gong really was.
For Yuki to mention her in front of their mother, she had to be very interesting, and very dangerous.
Because once Yuki liked someone, she would give them her whole heart.
If the other party didn't know how to cherish it, Yuki would be deeply hurt.
Rin leaned against the carriage wall.
A Magical Girl.
If only Yuki knew a Magical Girl.
She didn't need to be the kind of glittering idol on television, but a real Magical Girl who would protect people on the streets at night.
If that were the case, at least when Yuki encountered danger, someone would descend from the sky to block the claws and fangs of the Erosion Bodies for her.
Rin walked out of the carriage, but she didn't head straight home.
Instead, she leaned against a vending machine near the platform exit, pulled out her phone, and reread her mother's message.
She scrolled through her contacts to find Yuki's number, her finger hovering over the screen.
The last time she had messaged Yuki was two weeks ago, asking if she had finished reading the books she brought over.
Yuki had replied several hours later, saying she had finished them.
She thought for a moment, typed a few words, and deleted them.
Rin: 【I'm coming back next week. Mom wants me to meet your friend. Did your friend agree?】
Once the message was sent, the read receipt lit up almost immediately.
Yuki was probably looking at her phone right then.
Yuki: 【Yes. She agreed.】
Yuki: 【Sis, she's really nice. Don't scare her.】
Rin leaned against the vending machine, staring at the message.
Yuki: 【And don't ask about her grades, rankings, or what university she plans to attend. Don't ask any of that.】
Rin looked at these words. This level of protectiveness had gone beyond normal limits.
Rin: 【You really like her.】
Read. But the reply took longer than before.
Yuki: 【Yeah.】
Rin: 【Okay, I won't.】
Rin slipped her phone back into her pocket, bought a can of hot coffee from the vending machine, and continued walking with it in her hand.
Rate on N.U.
