She walked the road alone. Autumn wind scraped the leaves like dull knives. Her slim back looked like a lone crane. Her eyes carried bare fatigue, like ash under snow.

After leaving Sham behind, Yun Shi wandered like a drifting leaf. She didn’t know where to go; there was no harbor for her. She crossed the main street, then every familiar vein of alley. With nowhere left, she returned to the breakfast shop like a hollow shell.

Near noon, the place lay empty, air still as pond water. The person she wanted to see had already slipped away like mist.

Of course—she wouldn’t stay here forever. She was only a passerby in Yun Shi’s life, a footprint washed by the tide.

“Sham Einafel…”

Yun Shi murmured the once-strange name, now warming on her tongue like steeped tea.

That Witch’s Agent—what an unfathomable person. By blood, they were water and fire, born enemies under different skies. Why hadn’t she treated her as an enemy from the start? How could she sit beside her so naturally, like wind beside bamboo?

At first, Yun Shi had saved her by accident, with no thought of after. She’d imagined Sham would mark her as an enemy, imagined cold avoidance like frost. She had not imagined quiet harmony, like snow melting on sunlight.

Isn’t it obvious? They aren’t from the same world—the Underworld and the streets above are two shores. Getting along feels impossible, like bridges burned before dawn.

“Sham Einafel…”

She pressed a hand to her head. Loneliness welled in her eyes, the kind carved by years of winter.

Sham was too sly, a cat who came and left of her own will. The worst was the thin red thread—Yun Shi didn’t want to see her vanish.

If she could, she’d cut the vines of entanglement. Yet the vines had already coiled around her heart.

Yun Shi stepped away, alone again, drifting for a place that would accept her like a quiet harbor.

Without noticing, she returned to the bar she’d left yesterday, standing at the door like a pilgrim at a temple gate.

A year—time flipped pages like a restless book. It had been that long since she left the Clan Head.

She pushed the door with practiced ease and slipped inside, footsteps soft as rain.

“Welcome… Oh? Little Yun? Missed me already, back so soon?”

Weiyang sat at the counter, smile bright as a lantern seeing a familiar face.

Yun Shi couldn’t find words. Silence stuck like a fishbone in her throat.

“Don’t just stand there. Come on, sit.”

A year together had taught Weiyang to read her weather. She guided Yun Shi to the stool with the ease of a gentle tide.

“What happened?”

When Yun Shi sat beside her, Weiyang set a glass of juice in front of her, cool as river stone, inviting the heart to speak.

“…Miss Weiyang, what kind of person do you think I am?”

Weiyang blinked, then thought, gaze steady like a chisel finding grain.

“Mm… kind, gentle, considerate… and not very frank.”

“…I’ve always thought I’m not a good person.”

Her voice was cool, like the edge of a shaded well. Weiyang saw a lone winter inside those eyes.

“Why think that?”

“You ask why I think that…”

“Isn’t it obvious? Everyone’s life carries meaning, like a lamp in a window. Even the worst of us has a spark. That’s why all kinds gather around the same fire.”

“It’s not like that… Some people, with status and power piled high like gold, still can’t grasp what their heart wants.”

“Little Yun…”

“I seem to hold everything, yet I have nothing. Those who come close never end well. Friends, comrades… they vanish because of me. I’m a jinx, aren’t I? A cold star.”

“You can’t think like that!”

“I know. I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve lost too much by my own hand. If I could… I wouldn’t…” Her words thinned like smoke.

It had always been this way. Names turned to ash because of her—friends carried off like leaves in a flood. How could she ignore it?

Not wanting more to suffer—was that wrong, like closing a gate against rain?

“I met someone. She’s good, bright as morning. But… I don’t want more ties with her. Or she’ll fade because of me.”

Sham Einafel—another who had walked into her heart this year. If she could, Yun Shi wouldn’t drag her into the undertow.

“I don’t know what to do. What’s wrong with me…”

Yun Shi felt lost in fog. Why feel so much for a girl she barely knew, like a sprout pushing through frost—like a friend?

“You mean… you’re torn over whether to make friends?”

Weiyang was quick, her thought catching light like a blade’s edge.

“Isn’t that good? If you want a friend, go. Don’t overthink. Let the wind push the boat.”

“No. This one thing is forbidden. And if feelings grow deep, parting cuts deeper, like a knife honed twice.”

“Little Yun, why must you think this way?”

“Isn’t it natural? Everyone parts one day; no one stays forever. If feelings aren’t deep, the farewell won’t drown you like a storm tide.”

Sometimes it was hard to believe she was only thirteen. Her mind ran far, like a river that outpaced the map. Even grown-ups had no perfect answers ready like keys.

Because of that, Weiyang didn’t want her to lose her original heart. A child without that spring—thinking more was like pouring water into sand.

“You know, Little Yun, friends do leave. They can’t stand beside you forever. But parting exists so the next meeting can bloom with a smile.”

“Eh?”

“Even if you can’t stay together, keep the heart’s thread. Distance can’t stop hearts from echoing. You’ll find someone worth laying your whole heart bare.”

Weiyang smiled at her, bright as sun after rain.

Slowly, the ice inside Yun Shi began to thaw. A deep, guarded desire lifted its head like a seed breaking soil.

“Go make a friend. That’s my one wish for you~”

Weiyang kept coaxing, stirring the pond with a pebble. Yun Shi, who planned to avoid all bonds, felt ripples she couldn’t still.

“I’ll think about it.”

In the end, Yun Shi could only offer mist instead of a promise.

After she left, Weiyang went back to minding the shop alone, the room a little empty, like a chair missing a coat.

Yun Shi couldn’t stay forever. She would fly, sooner or later, like a bird following winter’s map. Weiyang understood, more or less, the sky inside her.

“Do your best, Little Yun.”

All she could do was watch the figure shrink down the street, a lantern left burning behind her.

…

Sham eyed the crowd hemming her in, jaw tight like a drumskin. She glanced around—every exit blocked, walls closing like a cage.

These people wouldn’t let up. Each one looked like a wolf ready to bite.

“I’m truly unlucky…”

She let out a bitter smile, thin as cracked porcelain.

Since becoming a Witch’s Agent a year ago, peace had left her like migrating geese. At first, they admired her, seniors calling her the new wave. The Magic Institution set banners of expectation. Respect piled up like fresh snow.

Time melted it. Doubt replaced warmth, mockery replaced cheers, respect turned to stones.

Here, countless hands had reached for her Magical Stones. She’d fought till the nights blurred together like rain on ink.

“Come on. If you want the Magical Stone, beat me.”

Sham drew her weapon. Her gaze sharpened like a blade. She charged, a storm breaking over reeds.

Steel sang and bodies fell. Only one voice roared like a lone tiger in the gorge.

One against dozens, a spark against a torrent…

By chance, Yun Shi felt a ripple of Mystic Power, like wind tugging a sleeve. She followed it and froze at the sight, heart thudding like a struck gong.

Bodies littered the ground beyond count, like toppled scarecrows. Blood painted everything red, a tide that stank of rot.

And she found a familiar figure…

At the center of the dead, a lone girl stood, panting like a hunted deer. Her clothes were soaked in crimson. Fine cuts mapped her skin like thorns.

“You…”

Seeing Sham survive the storm, Yun Shi’s eyes widened, round as a cold moon.

She had left the Underworld long ago, but its cruelty clung like iron dust. She knew how battle scythed lives like grain.

In this fight, only Sham knew how many lives she took. She did it just to guard her one small flame.

“Someone tried to rob me. That’s all. If I… don’t fight, what else can I do?”

Sham didn’t look at Yun Shi. She braced herself, half-kneeling, hands trembling like a wounded hawk’s wing.

“Maybe fighting doesn’t suit you. I think I get why you didn’t want a contract with me.”

Sham smiled bitterly, a crack across calm water. Yun Shi held her silence like snow.

“It’s fine. I won’t trouble you. I’ll just… go.”

She forced herself up, swallowing pain like burning sake, trying to slip away. She didn’t want Yun Shi to see her in rust and ruin.

Yun Shi said nothing. She stepped forward and caught the falling star that was Sham.

“Come to my place… I’ll bandage you.”