Meruru screamed her name.
Star-trail stood in the center of this nightmare, watching the girl who had collapsed in the rain.
The magic circuits inside her body were being contaminated by the erosion mana at a rate visible to the naked eye. Every single node was desperately resisting, but the strength of their resistance was weakening.
The half-line of the chorus that Meruru had sung trembling in the downpour, its final note hung suspended in the rain, refusing to fall.
But the girl's own consciousness had been shattered by the impact at that very moment.
Her subconscious was still repeatedly replaying the moment she was injured, and each replay further deepened the damage to her magic circuits.
She had to stabilize her mind first. Her subconscious was still repeatedly replaying the moment of her injury; if they didn't break this cycle, the treatment would only end up hurting her.
Star-trail sank its perception deep into the contract link.
Then, it began to sing.
Since the final scene was of Meruru's singing, there was no better way than with song.
There were no lyrics, only a soft, slow hum—a fragment of a requiem she had once heard from the mermaids of the Sea Race in her original world.
She couldn't remember the original song very clearly, only a small portion of the melody, but it was enough.
The song flowed down along the contract link, gently enveloping the rain-drenched ruins of the girl's subconscious.
Under the influence of the melody, the downpour gradually subsided. The shrieks of the Erosion Body faded into a distant, muffled background noise. The heavy clouds above the ruins parted slightly, allowing a beam of silvery-white starlight to shine down onto the road.
As the light fell upon her, Star-trail heard another melody—not the one it was singing.
It rose from deep within the girl's circuits, surfacing on its own as if awakened by Star-trail's song.
It was a more complete verse, weaving together with Star-trail's requiem fragment, creating a harmony within the contract link that it had never anticipated.
It was Meruru's singing, the warmest memory the girl held from her final moments before slipping into a coma.
She had hidden this song deep inside her, so deep that not even the erosion mana could completely contaminate it.
And now, guided by Star-trail's requiem, her circuits automatically drew this melody up from the depths, layering it over its song.
It was like a pair of hands reaching out from the ruins, grasping another pair of hands that had been extended toward them.
“...So you kept a part of it safe yourself.”
It pulled the melody of its requiem back a step, leaving room for the awakened song of Meruru.
The two melodies, one leading and one following, one high and one low, interlaced into a complete chord within the girl's subconscious.
The heavy rain stopped. The crack in the clouds above the ruins widened, and more starlight poured down, illuminating the girl's face.
She lay on the ground, her lips still trembling slightly, but this time she wasn't repeating the words “Run!” from before her injury. Instead, she was humming along.
She hummed the chorus of the song Meruru had sung in the downpour—the half-line she had been unable to finish.
Starlight erupted from the sky like an inverted galaxy, wrapping her in its center.
Her body slowly floated up amid the starlight. Her light flaxen hair was lifted by the fluctuations of mana, each strand dyed with a pale purple luster.
A skirt spread outward from her waist, colored in an extremely pale violet, its hem lined with tiny, glowing music notes.
Her upper body was clad in a form-fitting crop top, with a star-shaped brooch pinned at the collar—exactly identical to the mark on Star-trail's forehead.
Thigh-high boots wrapped her calves, the cuffs adorned with small wing decorations.
A delicate bracelet appeared on her right wrist, strung with several blank musical note pendants.
Her weapon had not fully materialized. The weapon slot remained empty, with only a blur of light hovering in her palm.
She would likely have to wait until she woke up to find out what it would be.
On the back of her hand was a star-shaped mark similar to Yuki's, but surrounded by an additional faint halo.
She opened her eyes amidst the starlight.
Her pupils were a pale purple, slightly darker than the shade of her skirt, with a lingering dampness from having just broken free of the nightmare.
She looked down at her hands, clenched her fists, and silently mouthed something toward an empty space.
In this stretch of time that belonged to no reality, she had completed the transformation she had once failed to achieve.
The starlight dispersed, and her consciousness sank back into a peaceful darkness.
She drifted back to the ground. Her transformed outfit dissolved into particles of light, merging deep into her circuits, and her hair returned to its original flaxen color.
Her body lay back on the hospital bed, her hands folded neatly over the blanket, her brow now completely relaxed.
Meanwhile, in the stairwell of the inpatient department, Rin Kurokawa stood behind the fire door leading to the rooftop, holding a cup of coffee that had already gone cold.
Lunchtime had already passed. A nurse in the examination center's break room had saved a bento for her, but she was in no hurry to go back.
Every detail from that morning's examination was still stuck in her mind, making her feel restless even sitting on the break room chair.
She needed to find a place to get some fresh air and recalibrate her professional mindset as a doctor.
Pushing open the fire door, the wind on the rooftop blew the stray hairs on her forehead into her eyes.
She walked over to the railing, set her coffee cup down on the concrete barrier, and took a deep breath of the cool, post-rain air.
She prepared to throw everything from this morning out of her head.
Right then, she heard a soft, dull thud.
It came from below, sounding like something had accidentally bumped against sheet metal.
What was that noise?
She followed the sound down. It didn't take long before she spotted the very person who had kept her on edge all morning at the corner of the landing.
Qiluo Tian Gong was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed, her breathing light and even.
An unopened can of red bean soup rested on her knees, tilted in the folds of her skirt, on the verge of sliding off.
“...Tian Gong-san?” Rin called out in a low, tentative voice.
There was no response.
She took two steps forward, bent down beside her, caught the sliding can of red bean soup, and set it gently on the floor.
Then she stood up, looking at the girl who, instead of going straight home after her physical examination, had run off to sleep in the corner of the fire escape behind the inpatient department.
Sunlight filtered through the window, casting a few patches of light across her face.
Her eyelashes were long. With her eyes closed, she looked much softer than when they were open, a complete contrast to the girl who had stared straight at her with clear, bright eyes during the physical.
Did she just sit here and fall asleep after the exam?
Did she not sleep well last night, or did today's examination make her too nervous?
Judging by how she acted during the exam today, I would've thought facing an Erosion Body wouldn't scare her at all.
Rin looked down at the hem of her white coat and made a quick decision: she would take it off and drape it over her.
She was just about to undo the top button. But the moment her fingers touched her collar, Qiluo stirred.
Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, and then she slowly opened her eyes.
Her eyes were slow to focus, carrying the typical grogginess of someone who had just woken up, as if she couldn't quite tell where she was yet.
Almost immediately, her gaze fell on Rin's fingers resting on her collar.
“...Dr. Kurokawa?” Qiluo blinked, her voice laced with sleepiness. “What are you doing? Why are you unbuttoning your coat?”
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