“But isn’t this crooked? Miss Night Phantom didn’t do anything; this feels wrong, like grit clouding clear water.”

“Then tell me—what do you want to do?” The words drifted like a cold wind through dry grass.

Mizuki flared up, a spark catching tinder. Yun Shi turned slightly; her Goggles caught pricks of light like stars on black ice.

“You don’t understand.” Her voice was a shutter closing against dawn.

She belonged to daylight; some things the sunlit shore can’t fathom in the ocean’s depth.

“But I can’t just sit here and do nothing!” Her chest rose like a wave about to break.

“Hate and war are everyday bread in the Underworld. I’m just wearing the villain’s mask for now. Nothing changes; comrades are optional, like shadows at noon.”

“...........”

“Miyuki Kiseki, you know nothing. You’re acting on impulse; how long can that fire last? After the dark stains you, you won’t talk like this. One day you’ll fall, trapped in a hell no prayer can open.”

Yes—just like me.

No way out.

This was the ending carved in stone.

“You have your world; I have my life. Why did you step into mine? Without power, you’ll just get killed. In the Underworld, innocence is a sin; this isn’t the world you know.”

Give up, Miyuki Kiseki. Even if you’re the protagonist, you’ll still be dyed black, like silk plunged into ink.

Mizuki fell silent. Yun Shi watched her, resolve hardening like frost on steel. She was disappointed in Miyuki Kiseki—disappointed past hope. How long could this girl keep that glass-clear purity? Yun Shi almost wanted to see.

“I won’t.” After a long moment, Mizuki lifted her head. Her knitted brows showed a thorn of resolve; her voice was small but firm, like a candle that refused to gutter.

Yun Shi laughed coldly inside, bitterness like iron on the tongue. This girl wouldn’t believe the coffin until she saw the nails.

“You will.”

“I won’t.”

“You will. I’ll wait for that day.”

“Then I’ll wait too. We’ll see who’s right and who’s wrong.”

“Naive people die early. I’m not babysitting you.” Her words fell like sleet.

“I won’t die. Because… I want to protect what’s mine. Miss Night Phantom, you’re one of them. So… please promise me. Live.”

“...Idiot!”

Irritation flared. Yun Shi snapped the word and turned, storm in her shoulders, ready to leave.

For one heartbeat she’d felt a secret thrill. Damn it—what was that?

What did that idiot do? Why was her heart kicking like a trapped bird? It had to be that idiot’s fault.

She fled the spot like a deer breaking brush, desperate to find a quieter grove for her pulse.

In her last life, Yun Shi had never loved. She didn’t know how liking someone felt, so she couldn’t read the quickening under her ribs.

Only after a pain that tore her soul like cloth would she understand her heart, learn to cherish a love found like a spring in desert. Later, she’d often grumble about this day.

But that was for later...

“Miss Night Phantom!”

Seeing her leaving, Mizuki panicked and lunged, catching Yun Shi’s slim wrist. The instant her fingers met skin, Mizuki froze; the feel was familiar, like a key finding an old lock.

“L‑Let go!”

Yun Shi jolted, struggling to wrench free. She pulled; Mizuki only gripped tighter, like ivy hugging stone.

Helpless, she stopped fighting and let Mizuki hold on.

This idiot. Why is she so strong?

“What do you want!”

Yun Shi snapped, temper prickling like nettles.

A white‑robed girl, soft pretty features tense but earnest, clutched another girl’s wrist. The other wore a black cloak; her body flickered half‑hidden, and Goggles and mask veiled most of her face. From her outline, she was likely pretty too.

The black‑cloaked girl was pinned, back to the wall. The white‑robe pressed in, inch by inch. Peach blossoms thickened in the air; from the outside, it looked like a forceful pin‑and‑claim, a bold bloom swallowing a shadowed bud.

“Miss Night Phantom...”

“..........”

“You might not believe this, but I don’t dislike you at all. Even if they cast you out, I’m still here. And Sham’s here too. No matter what, we’re your teammates. So… stop saying comrades are disposable.”

...

A face that sincere, eyes that clear—no smoke, no knives. Miyuki Kiseki was that kind of person: simple as spring water, foolish as a gosling, impossible to hate.

Being comforted by her of all people, Yun Shi could only smile bitterly.

She could ignore the words like wind through chimes. Still, she’d give the girl some face.

“Hmph. Whatever.”

She flicked off Mizuki’s hand and turned with a careless sweep, walking away under Mizuki’s gaze. Mizuki could only offer a wry smile.

“I hope she doesn’t hate me…”

Mizuki didn’t see the hidden mouth curve into a lovely arc, a moonrise behind a mask.

Night fell like ink, and the real battle began. The strike force had gathered; the muster ground was a dark tide of bodies. Witches and Single Leaf Clan alike sharpened themselves for the coming storm.

The air felt wrong, like the hush before thunder. Faces were tight; even the chatterboxes went silent. What hung here wasn’t fervor for victory or team spirit—it was the cold of an approaching void, the dread of death you don’t want but must face.

On the platform, the female commander stood with a granite face and easy posture, steps steady as a metronome. The war drums didn’t shake her. Her heart trembled a little, like a sparrow under eaves, but she swallowed it. To lift others, she had to wear a leader’s light, even under a mountain of pressure. Only then would hope feel possible. To live, they’d fight until the last ember.

“Begin the operation!”

She skipped empty words and speeches. With battle at the door, only action had teeth.

Orders flew; squads moved like braided streams, each to their post. No panic in their steps; their rhythm held like drumbeats. Steel in their hands flashed with cold stars.

Mizuki glanced ahead. Yun Shi slid her last pistol into its holster like a blade into night. Their teammates checked weapons; ready sparks lined the ranks. Mizuki felt a little useless, an extra hand in a storm.

“Ah‑la, Mizuki‑chan, you can’t go in without a weapon~” Hawk Hunter waggled a finger, concern fluttering like a moth.

“Don’t worry. I have Elana.”

Mizuki smiled. Right on cue, Elana’s voice chimed, bright as silver bells. “It’s fine. I can shift forms. If Mizuki needs a cannon, I’ll be a cannon~”

“That’s amazing!” Thunder Lady slid in, eyes shining like twin suns. Mizuki could only laugh dryly.

“But that’s not enough. What if someone ambushes you? You really didn’t think this through.” Tyrant’s scorn cut like a whip. Mizuki bristled, then Tyrant tossed her a gun.

“Take it. For self‑defense. Brats are such a pain.”

Tyrant didn’t wait for Mizuki’s surprise. She turned away with a grimace and headed toward Comet. Comet saw and sighed, a breeze through pine.

Maybe Tyrant, for all her hostility to Miss Night Phantom, was a decent person after all.

Thinking so, Mizuki tucked the gun into her bag.

“Mizuki, you’re so popular. I’m jealous~” Sham sang, mischief twinkling like fireflies.

“Wh‑What are you saying, Sham!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Yoshi, let’s move out~” Sham punched the air like a girl hammering the sky.

Yun Shi watched the scene, saying nothing. A second glance lingered like a brushstroke, then she returned to her work.

“Hello, Miss Night Phantom. Nice to meet you~”

A small face popped up in front of her. Yun Shi lifted her head. Thunder Lady smiled without malice, greeting her like a neighbor across a fence, not like the others with eyes like knives.

“What is it, Thunder Lady?” For such a dangerous gesture among Witches, Yun Shi chose to answer properly, voice level as a still pond.

“For this operation, please take care of me~” So simple—a single string plucked.

Seeing Mizuki over there, then herself here, Yun Shi felt, oddly, less alone, like a lone lantern spotting another in fog.

“Whatever.”

The word was flat, neither yes nor no, and it was enough to make Thunder Lady bloom into a smile.

“Got it, Night Phantom!” Thunder Lady clenched her fists before her heart, brimming with energy, a sunrise on legs. A friendly sort, quick to warm. Since she wasn’t hostile, Yun Shi let it be.

“Yo, Tyrant, there you are.” A bright female voice rang out; everyone turned.

A short‑haired woman, boyish cut like Tyrant’s, strode up with several girls behind her—likely teammates. She was all smiles, which surprised Mizuki, because the first girl who’d rushed to kill Miss Night Phantom was among them.

“Hm? Oh, it’s her...” The newcomer’s face soured the instant she saw Yun Shi, like milk turning in heat.

“What’s this? You got stuck in a squad with her?”

“What could I do? It’s how they split us. You think I can veto fate?” Tyrant’s scowl deepened; the banked fire leaped, smoke in her eyes. She hated Yun Shi. That much was true; the hatred ran to the bone.

The newcomer’s teammates wore the same storm, anger tight as bowstrings, the target clear as a mark on a wall.

“Forget her. Photon—what is it?” Tyrant bit off the words, steering away from a fight.

“Yeah, Tyrant, come with me.” The woman called Photon stepped up and draped an arm over Tyrant’s shoulder, voice tired as late rain. Without waiting, she pulled Tyrant aside for a hushed talk.

Under the ring of hostile stares, Yun Shi sighed inwardly, a leaf sinking in a deep pool. She said nothing, did nothing, and just stood there, like an animal in a cage on display. Only here, the crowd wished the hide skinned and stretched.

No point running. No point moving. You grow used to it, like night to stars.