A mirror has a face and a back; everything wears two, sometimes many, faces. People carry good and evil like twin shadows, and society is a wider eclipse.

Yun Shi lives in a world where light and dark braid like river and reed. Those on the city's skin never see those in its underbelly. In the dark, mobs and illegal labs are just another storm; people learn to hold the umbrella. Even a bloodstorm draws only a sigh—bad luck today.

They call that darkness the Underworld. Here, survival is a blade in your sleeve and bread you knead yourself.

Power comes in uneven hills. Yun Shi belongs to the Magic Institution, the largest reservoir of Mystic Power, a nursery where Witches bloom. The Institution stands like a quiet tower; unshakable, yet it hates trumpets. Fights flare like summer squalls; they rarely meddle. If the mood shifts like clouds, they might step in with two light feet.

A Witch, simply, is a girl who signs a pact with an agent and becomes a lamp fed by Mystic Power. A Witch is born by finding her own Magical Stone—the heart-stone that hums with unknown reserves. Only when the stone accepts her does it let her complete the last rite—the pact with the agent. Once you become a Witch, you truly move into the Underworld; from then on, every step tastes of shadow.

Another power is the Clan Heads—seven houses like stone pillars. Compared to the Institution’s foreigners, the Clan Heads are rooted almost entirely in Japan, a taste that surprises the tongue. Their seven houses differ like bamboo bends in wind; they won’t braid their opinions. Call them one force if you must, but they use each other like boats tied by fraying rope. The Clan Heads are the birthplace of most Mystic users; they guard an untouchable strength in the Underworld.

As said, the seven houses rarely harmonize. Some heads worship steel; some spill oil on old fires; some sit neutral like cranes at a pond; some want bridges with the Magic Institution for joint growth.

Where carp and dragons thrash, no one can slip a hand between factions’ feuds. Though the Clan Heads outrank the Institution in history and throne, their endless quarreling keeps the field muddy. Their secret arts make crooks shiver like hares in snow, yet constant infighting drains them. Only a few watch the blaze from the opposite bank.

As for other powers, she doesn’t care to dig that pit tonight.

Yun Shi suspects the Clan Heads sit at the root of this incident. It’s not a whim. She knows their methods—cruelty like a tiger’s stripe, arrogance like an iron bell.

Which one, then...

She walked and sank inward, thoughts folding like mist over a quiet pond.

It was already the second day. As usual, she handed the lunchbox to Sham, then, with a flourish like tossing a silk fan, refused to walk with Sham’s friends. Those stares feel like cold needles; better to slip away early.

She doesn’t want to dive into this. But the Underworld’s feud is spilling into the sunlit streets. She can’t set it down. As an Underworld resident, she won’t drag the unbound into the net; these people used to be like she once was—ignorant and safe.

Born in the Underworld, Yun Shi knows how rare the warm, ordinary days of her past life were—steam over rice, laughter like rain on tiles. If others learn the truth, even strangers, she winces; entering this black market of souls is a hellish blow.

Which Clan Head…

She was still thinking.

Suddenly—thunk—she hit something soft, springy, like cotton. Or—oh—did she tap a bridge of nose?

Ah, sorry—I wasn’t watching.

She lifted her head and found she’d bumped the other girl’s forehead. The girl, not exactly polite, had… used her nose?

Height? Yun Shi doesn’t care. Even if this girl is as tall as Sham, even if she’s shorter than both—she absolutely, positively, does-not-care.

Huh? Bianqi-kun?

The girl sounded surprised. Only one person calls her that. Yun Shi knew at once.

Miyuki Kiseki.

And no, she hadn’t forgotten to look at her face while counting inches.

Oh. Morning.

Miyuki’s voice wore a shy wrinkle, like winter sun behind a pane.

Can’t blame anyone for this; Yun Shi meets Miyuki so rarely that this might be their first face-to-face.

Mm. What are you doing here?

Oddly, someone who barely starts conversations felt a tug and threw a line.

Um, I’m heading to the Student Council. You?

Miyuki answered with delicate manners, then let her pure, flawless smile bloom like a white flower.

Yun Shi drifted for a beat. That clean, harmless smile makes you want to keep such a girl far from doors that open downward.

No schedule.

So stay in your own meadow, girl. Keep that justice-springing heart. Strange—she was getting sentimental. The other is just an ordinary high-schooler. Maybe because something in her mirrors the old Yun Shi too closely.

Yun Shi couldn’t help a thin, bitter smile.

I see.

Miyuki tapped her chin with a pinky, like nudging a cherry bud.

If you don’t mind, could you help me sort Student Council files?

Her smile stayed warm, but her tone moved with friendly certainty, like a hand that leaves no room to refuse.

No, I’m not—

Alright, alright—settled!

Hey, Miyuki Kiseki, you—

Then let’s go~

Yun Shi tried to protest, but Miyuki gave no foothold. She grabbed Yun Shi’s hand and tugged forward, breezing past gawking students whose eyes popped like seeds.

Yun Shi hates trouble. Truly.

Miyuki Kiseki, you—

She opened her mouth and only got that far, because Miyuki’s grip held firm. In this life, Yun Shi has almost never held a girl’s hand. The sudden touch left her adrift; she fell into Miyuki’s rhythm, unable to resist.

When Miyuki first caught her hand, she felt a tiny shock. Yun Shi’s hand wasn’t rough and strong like a typical male; it was soft and fragile, like a paper crane you hesitate to fold. Miyuki dared not squeeze. This student, Yunshi Bianqi, often gets teased as a “trap,” yet rumors swirl so thick that people overlook that face. Seeing him today—more girl than most girls.

Miyuki had no need to be this forward. To her, Yun Shi is barely an acquaintance. So why clutch his hand despite the crowd’s eyes?

Her instinct had glimpsed it: a breath on him out of tune with the hallway, a faint loneliness like frost on a window. Only a few seconds, but it was there.

So Miyuki’s hidden soft-heart sprang awake. She pulled him along despite his pushback. She couldn’t stand that air of isolation clinging to him. Impulse, though, leaves you a little lost.

Hey, what are you doing?

Yun Shi frowned, a small spark of anger. What’s with this girl? She grabbed his hand without a thought. And—no—she’s not happy about it!

The Student Council’s been swamped. I’m drowning. Bianqi-kun, your grades and your handling are great. Please help the Council.

Miyuki smiled impishly, leaving no gap to refuse.

You… fine. I’ll go.

Yun Shi sighed. First time in this life he’s compromised to a girl.

Anyway, she’s cute. That’s a win for me.

He soothed himself with that thin blanket.

If not for classmates’ knife-eyed stares along the way, Yun Shi would be thrilled. He’s developing a fear of gazes like arrows.

Whoa. This is the Student Council?

Awe slipped out. The room sat neat as raked sand—furniture aligned, files stacked in orderly currents, a slight pressure like winter air. In both lives, it was his first step in here.

Right. Everyone else is out on tasks, so it’s just me today. It’s a bit much; the files are a mountain. Bianqi-kun, your ranking is high. If you joined the Council, it might be easy.

Miyuki smiled wryly and reached for the document pouch like plucking fruit.

It’s not hard. If you could just stamp a few things, that’s enough.

She tore the pouch and spilled papers across the desk like a white fan.

If you dragged me here just to stamp, that’s overkill, Miyuki Kiseki.

Oh? You mean?

Don’t make it only stamps. Split your work with me. Otherwise, making you carry it alone feels unfair.

Yun Shi spoke flat, but his face held a knot of nerves he couldn’t iron.

Mm. Thank you.

Miyuki returned a warm smile, unbothered by his stiffness.

She hadn’t expected him to be this roundabout.

Miyuki isn’t a fool; she saw it. Yun Shi had clearly said, I can help; don’t treat me differently. He covered kindness with a cool sleeve.

Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t come to help. I just pity you with this heap and decided to… donate.

Afraid she’d misread him, Yun Shi tossed a cold line while picking up a file. Regret bit him at once.

I’m an idiot.

Why do I do things that tank a girl’s favor so smoothly?

His heart howled, but his hands calmly opened the pouch.

My springtime’s gone.

Inside, Yun Shi wept and watched the flags of “route cleared” flutter away.

While Yun Shi spiraled, Miyuki just smiled, not angered by his rudeness. If anything, she looked… relieved?

Bianqi-kun is very gentle.

She said it lightly while marking papers, smile soft as dusk.

—!

Gen—gentle? Me? Me?

Yun Shi froze. In two lives, no one has ever called him gentle. His brain chose this moment to crash like a screen gone white.

“I—I...”

He wanted to speak, but nothing came out, nerves pricking like cold drizzle on skin.

“Pfft! Bianqi-kun, you’re really something~”

Mizuki couldn’t hold back a laugh; her slender palm cupped her mouth like a petal catching dew, the perfect maiden pose that could melt a crowd—just not Yun Shi.

“Y-You’re talking nonsense. I didn’t do anything!”

“I never said Bianqi-kun said anything.”

“You’re fishing for my words!”

“Nope.”

Miyuki Kiseki watched Yun Shi’s reactions with bright interest; before she knew it, the talk had her hooked. His fur-bristling look was cat-cute, though calling a boy cute felt a bit wrong.

“Forget it, I’m done with you. I’ve got work.”

Annoyed and helpless, Yun Shi dropped into his chair and buried himself in papers, like a mole digging in dark earth; he couldn’t out-talk her anyway.

Mizuki smiled; dawn-light curved across her delicate face, a flawless glow too soft to name.

Yun Shi drifted for a heartbeat under that light, then snapped back and dove into the grind like a swimmer into cold river water. Miyuki Kiseki didn’t dwell on it; she lifted the next file and began marking, her pen tapping like rain.

In the Student Council room, only two bent shadows moved like ink on paper; nothing else intruded, and their first shared memory settled like dust in sunbeams.

“Hey, Miyuki Kiseki.”

“Mm? What is it, Bianqi-kun?”

“You’re not that sure about this, right? Then why push so hard? You could just drop it.”

With nothing better to do, Yun Shi hauled the topic up like a net from still water.

“Maybe that’s true. But I’ve no reason to run. I’m part of the Student Council—how could I run?”

Miyuki Kiseki gave a wry smile, thin as moonlight behind clouds.

“Everyone’s uneasy. I’m the vice president, so I don’t even have the chance to run. Even if I tried, they wouldn’t allow it,” Mizuki added, her voice steady as a beam.

“What’s ahead might be hell. If you dig deeper, you might end up in danger,” Yun Shi said, eyes cool as winter glass, tone flat and firm.

“Are you worried about me?” Mizuki’s smile flicked up, a breeze rippling a pond.

“I don’t have time to mind you. But... call it off. Some things are kinder left unknown.”

Miyuki Kiseki froze for a beat, like a bird catching a rustle, then stood. “Bianqi-kun, you know something, don’t you?”

“I don’t. I don’t know a thing.”

“Liar. You do know, don’t you!”

“I don’t. Beyond knowing it’s dangerous, I know nothing.”

“Then...”

“Miyuki Kiseki, you won’t change anything. Better to stay a blissful innocent than chase a dead end. Isn’t that enough? Why fling yourself around for that last scrap of justice!”

Heat rose like wildfire; Yun Shi stood and lashed out, his voice snapping like a whip.

Mizuki’s hands clenched on instinct; the gentleness drained from her face like ebbing tide, and anger poured in.

“Even so... I...”

She lifted her lowered head and faced the “boy” before her like a blade meeting the wind.

“I don’t want to give up. How could I face my friends? Even just for Mizuki, who was attacked, I have to drag out the culprit. Otherwise, I can’t face myself!”

Miyuki Kiseki let her heart ring out, every word tolling like a bell over a quiet lake.

Yes—she refused to let her friends’ suffering vanish like smoke. She wanted to end this for one reason... for her friends.

“You... fine. Do what you want.”

Her earnest gaze made Yun Shi uneasy; he sagged back into his chair like a sail gone slack.

“You’re a kind person. But...”

If you knew the truth, could you still say that?

“I’m sorry, Bianqi-kun, I...”

The anger left Miyuki Kiseki’s face like a storm passing; apology settled in, soft as ash. She’d lost her temper and bit at him.

“I don’t mind that. More importantly, Miyuki Kiseki—”

Yun Shi was about to smooth the air when the door behind him slammed open like thunder, and an agitated voice burst in:

“Mizuki, what’s wrong? Why were you yelling? I heard you from way down the hall—eh, eh, eh, it’s that damn sissy!”

No mistake: the pervy yuri girl.