“Why do I have to go with you?” Yun Shi grumbled, her words dropping like a pebble into a still pond.

“Alright, alright, keep whining and you’ll never get married~” Sham sang, her tease fluttering like a paper fan.

“I’ve never planned to get married!” Yun Shi snapped, the retort crisp as a slammed door.

It was another ordinary day, bland as white rice, unless you counted the girl who looked sweet but was ink-dark inside; then Yun Shi had no complaints.

After school, Sham came hunting for her like a fox with a plan, and Yun Shi knew the scheme before a word was spoken.

She agreed to take her shopping but warned against excess, the promise tied neat as a ribbon, and they set off toward the snack-lined street.

The road flowed with people like a slow river, school kids drifting in clusters, and stalls flanked both sides like bright little islands.

Aunties and uncles wore warm smiles like lanterns at dusk, and the steady stream of customers fed their trays like a tide.

“Boss, one takoyaki!” Sham called, her voice popping like oil in a hot pan.

“Boss, one dango skewer!” she added, the order quick as a dart.

This girl was a handful, a kite always tugging at its string.

With her cheeks puffed full and her face blissful as a sunny window, she looked painfully adorable—if you ignored the storm under the silk.

In this society obsessed with cute—question mark dancing like a dragonfly—anything goes if it’s adorable, and love bulldozes past gender like spring floodwaters.

Something awful had mixed into that stew of thoughts, a bitter herb in sweet tea.

Her own face, she thought, was that androgynous pretty-boy look otaku hoard like rare stickers, a mask as sharp as a blade.

Honestly, that was dangerous, a paper screen hiding a night forest.

“Xiao Yun, what’s wrong?” Sham’s concern floated over, soft as a breeze through bamboo.

Her tone cut through Yun Shi’s bad daydreams like a bell in fog, and the fantasies scattered like startled sparrows.

“Ah, nothing… Sham, you done eating?” Yun Shi asked, her calm laid flat like a lake at dusk.

“Mm-hmm, round two later! By the way, Xiao Yun, since we’re out, wanna play?” Sham chirped, her eyes bright as candy glass.

“Coming from you, that has zero credibility,” Yun Shi said, dry as old tea leaves.

Yes—this girl was cute, her figure blooming just right like a plum in early spring, the sort to make any boy’s pulse stumble.

But Yun Shi never warmed to her, her heart a shuttered window when it came to Sham’s charms.

What was so good about a personality like a tangled skein? Yun Shi’s doubt sat on her tongue like a pebble.

“Sham, any news lately?” Yun Shi asked, the question falling first as a weight, action following like a shadow.

She meant the Underworld, the side beneath the floorboards, not small talk tossed like confetti.

Born in darkness, both of them knew the world’s two faces, like a coin flipping in a quiet hand.

Days in the Underworld were never promised peaceful; somewhere on this earth, sparks could leap like flint, and no one would know.

That’s why you couldn’t relax; the worst wasn’t a hunter’s howl, but eyes watching from reeds you couldn’t see.

So you had to read the weather of the times, like tracing wind by the swaying of grass.

“Mm, word is it’s not peaceful,” Sham said, her voice lowering like a drawn curtain. “Better to stay careful.”

“What happened?” Yun Shi asked, unease curling like smoke from a snuffed wick.

“I heard the Clan Head’s people threw down, a proper fight,” Sham said, her mouth a thin line like ink. “Not sure which Clan Head, or how it ended.”

“And that—what was it over?” Yun Shi pressed, her question pecking like a beak at stone.

“Who knows,” Sham murmured, her shrug drifting like falling ash. “Looked like they were fighting over something, and maybe it won’t blow up too big.”

“Restless times,” Yun Shi sighed, the words stretching like a long, gray cloud. “How’s the mess at our school?”

“Probably keeps going,” Sham yawned, the sound lazy as a cat in sun. “What do you plan to do?”

“Letting Underworld people run wild in the Outer World isn’t good,” Yun Shi said, the decision firm as a tied knot. “Go consult the Magic Institution.”

“If it’s your request, I never refuse~” Sham smiled, syrupy as honey. “If the Magic Institution steps in, it should smooth out like fresh snow~”

“Thanks,” Yun Shi said, the courtesy clean as a bow.

She knew her manners; Sham might act unreliable like a crooked line, yet when needed, she held steady like a pillar.

“But you, taking the initiative to meddle in Outer World affairs?” Sham laughed, the look in her eyes deep as a well. “That’s a surprise~”

“I just don’t like being pestered,” Yun Shi answered, her back straight like a bamboo stalk. “It makes me uneasy, that’s all.”

“Fine, I don’t mind either way,” Sham waved, careless as falling petals. “More importantly, Xiao Yun, wanna do something?”

It was still early, the hour open like a broad road, so going somewhere to play felt like a good card to throw.

“Then… the arcade?” Yun Shi asked after a beat, testing the water like a toe at the river’s edge.

“Rejected!” Sham fired back, the word snapping like a twig.

“Supermarket?” Yun Shi tried again, her tone light as a tossed leaf.

“Rejected!” Sham repeated, the refusal crisp as frost.

“Buy a CD?” Yun Shi ventured, hope thin as thread.

“Rejected,” Sham said, as flat as a closed fan.

“Food?” Yun Shi offered, the syllable warm as steam.

“Reje—no, no, approved!” Sham pivoted, greed flashing like a fish.

“Denied!” Yun Shi countered, her smile a curved blade.

They chatted and wandered, their steps drifting like clouds without a map.

After bickering in circles like two sparrows, they chose a bookstore, the reason simple as bread: common ground.

Sham wanted cookbooks, recipes stacked like tiles, and then a good excuse for milk tea with Yun Shi after.

Yun Shi just wanted her otaku haul—magazines and treasures—comfort piled like blankets.

“Mm, new stock already…” she breathed, her excitement sparkling like dew on leaves.

Her eyes lit up as she fixed on the anime magazines, twin stars that ignored every other shelf like a moonlit path.

The otaku realm—how would you mundanes ever understand? The thought rang like a temple bell.

Outside the window, a shop display shone with moe-girl figurines, merch that fed a hardcore otaku like rice and salt.

“Buy, buy, buy!” she blurted, the chant drumming like festival taiko.

Without another word, the ‘pretty-boy’ otaku with starry eyes surged forward like she’d been dosed with rocket fuel, stepping deeper into her realm.

“Eh? Where’d Xiao Yun go?” Sham blinked, her surprise floating like a stray balloon.

Books in hand and ready to drag her for milk tea, she found the space beside her empty as an unclaimed seat.

“So weird—where’d she run off to? Forget it, I’ll call her,” she muttered, her phone flipping up like a silver fish.

Meanwhile, the otaku girl who’d discovered a new continent roamed the store, hunting her picks like a swift, bright kingfisher.