Out on the sea, a small fleet slid forward like dark gulls on slate water. Witches lined the decks, nerves taut as bowstrings, hands busy with steel and spell.

Vivian raised her binoculars. The glass caught a cold glint. The ships ahead wore the Church’s mark, stark as chalk on iron.

“Prepare for battle.” Her voice dropped like an anchor through wind and wave.

She signaled her people to ready up, then steadied herself, calm as a held breath. “Ringo, you’re our cover. And hey—keep yourself safe.”

“Got it.”

In a moment like this, Ringo had no room for doubt. She simply followed her handler’s will, like an arrow follows the draw.

The warship under their feet wasn’t theirs. A squad this small could never field a ship like this; even the Magic Institution wouldn’t spare one. The True Palace Family lent it, a steel oath against the Church.

With this armor and thunder, Vivian’s confidence rose like tide under the moon. With their current strength, buying one day felt within reach.

She hadn’t planned on being swept into the Underworld war. But the world offers no medicine for regret, only the wind that keeps pushing.

“Good thing Moa went back.” The thought warmed her like a pocket ember.

She pictured that tender-faced girl. When they signed her as a Witch, Moa had just entered middle school. Two years had blown by like dandelion seeds.

The child would run the Underworld someday. Until then, Vivian wanted her to taste the bright world. She feared there wouldn’t be many chances left.

“Open fire!”

Gunports yawned. Thunder rolled over the water. Light clawed the waves.

A naval battle broke like a storm front, black and bright and hungry.

----------------------------------------

Riding a submarine from the far West, Yunshi Bianqi reached Japan’s coast with a travel-worn ache. She stepped off unseen, as planned. She had chosen a hidden route; the Outer World wouldn’t notice. Otherwise, how could she “smuggle” herself home like a shadow?

The Underworld war had already erupted. Three great powers were pulled into the blaze, the main front raging over Europe like a wildfire. She remembered the fighting that scorched Japan. Drums thundered, pride cracked, and both sides bled. What shape would the flames take this time?

She didn’t want to think about it. She just wanted to rest, like a stone sinking into quiet water. She’d gone to Britain and seen her brother. Her wish was met. No need to wade deeper.

Even so, a prickle crawled up her spine. It didn’t feel over.

She returned to her place. She had rested at Asagi Renka’s camp; her spirit was decent, her steps sure. Home came quickly, like a lantern at dusk.

She stripped off the troublesome Witch garb. Steam wrapped her in a hot shower’s hush. Clean clothes softened her skin. She craved the bed’s cool shore.

The phone rang, an ill-timed bell.

“Hello, Bianqi speaking.”

“Finally! You picked up! Your phone’s been dead for days. What’s going on?”

“Oh... it’s you, Maya Hanazaka. What is it?”

“I should ask you! You vanished from school. Mizuki and Sham too. Do you know where they are?”

“Probably abroad, having fun.”

She couldn’t say Mizuki and Sham were still in Britain, ready to step into war. The truth felt like a coal on her tongue.

“What do you mean? They’re overseas?”

Maya clearly didn’t know the under-layer of this world.

“Enough. Don’t ask. Did you need me for something?”

Yun Shi tried to turn the current.

“Right. You’re in the Student Council, yeah? With you gone, it’s chaos. The president and VP are out too. What about the sports festival?”

“Damn... I actually forgot.”

The Underworld had eaten her days like a tide. She’d already planned the events. The opening ceremony was left dangling. Her absence left it undone.

“Forget it. I’ll go to school tomorrow. I’m wiped. I’m sleeping.”

“Okay. You sound exhausted. What were you doing?”

“Don’t ask so much.”

She cut the call on the yuri girl with a small sigh, like pinching a candle.

She stretched, spine popping like bamboo. The bed welcomed her like deep grass.

So many battles had thinned her strength like wind through sand. With that thought, she let her eyes fall shut.

A faint stir broke the room’s surface. She snapped awake, air sharp as a blade.

A shadow eased through the door. The moon carved a pale edge around a small figure. It was a girl. Her face was still a blur, like ink in water.

“Who’s there!”

Yun Shi pushed upright. Every nerve bristled like quills. Power gathered under her skin, a quiet storm.

Moonlight spilled like silver dust. The girl’s shadow stretched long. Her face came into focus, pale as frost.

“Sham?”

Recognition eased her guard by a hand’s breadth.

But Sham’s face wasn’t the same. The carefree glaze was gone, grief pooling like rain in a low place. She stood and watched Yun Shi’s surprise. Something in her twinged.

“You’re back?”

Only after a long beat did she speak. Sadness weighed her voice like wet cloth.

“Yeah. Like I’d just get taken out, right...”

Yun Shi tasted wrongness in the air, a bitter aftertaste.

“Xiao Yun.”

“What?”

“I missed you.”

Sham stepped closer, feet soft as falling leaves. Yun Shi knew she’d made people worry. Guilt pressed on her like a stone. She let Sham come in, even opened her arms.

“Idiot.”

Sham pulled her close. Her breath warmed Yun Shi’s cheek like steam over tea. Yun Shi flushed and went quiet. She owed Sham. She knew it.

“See? I’m fine...”

“Who cares if you’re fine. You acted on your own.”

“S-sorry...”

Her usual calm unraveled like old silk.

“I—”

Sham released her and shoved. The ceiling flooded Yun Shi’s eyes like blank water. She realized she was on her back, one hand braced. Sham looked down, gaze locked like a gate.

“Sham?”

Power sharpened Sham’s face. She pinned Yun Shi. Her hand drifted toward a line it shouldn’t cross.

“Wait. What are you doing!”

“Cut it out. Enough.”

Yun Shi pushed against her. Sham was stronger, heavy as a boulder. Yun Shi resisted; Sham overpowered her. A warped satisfaction flickered across Sham’s features.

“I won’t let go.”

One hand trapped Yun Shi’s wrist. The other held her still. Fear and anger crashed over Yun Shi like cold surf.

Sham taunted her, voice sugar over a blade. “Nonsense. Let me go!” Yun Shi’s cheeks burned. Confusion braided with betrayal.

Sham grew more aggressive. Yun Shi gasped, torn by shock and the snarl of their history. This wasn’t the Sham she knew.

At last, Sham forced a long, breath-stealing kiss. Yun Shi froze, then trembled, breath scattering like startled birds. The person in her memory felt suddenly far away.

When Sham pulled back, Yun Shi’s face burned red. Her breathing rasped like wind through reeds. Sham looked down, a small triumph curled on her lips.

“What do you even want?”

Her wrists were pinned. Humiliation prickled like nettles, sharper for someone who had once lived as a boy.

“Xiao Yun, we’ve been together the longest. Don’t you know what I’m thinking?”

Sham’s smile tilted into sadness again, a candle guttering in a draft.

“What... do you mean?”

Yun Shi didn’t dare trigger her. Fear beaded on her skin like cold dew. Disappointment settled in Sham’s eyes, as if she had expected this fog.

“Xiao Yun, I like you. You really didn’t know?”

The truth left her like a sigh, finally given air.

—!

The shock struck Yun Shi like a bell. With no love history, being confessed to by a girl felt wild and tangled.

“As I thought, you didn’t know...”

“I...”

“I like you, Xiao Yun. Like a lover would. Is that answer good enough?”

“I…” she breathed, her voice thin as frost on glass.

“Tell me, Xiao Yun—do you like me?” Sham’s voice cut like a quiet knife.

Silence spread like ink across water; Yun Shi hadn’t expected this turn, and her tongue fogged with confusion.

As for Sham, her feelings ran deep, like roots; they’d walked more than a year together, seasons turning and storms shared.

They went home side by side, ate bento under warm light, bought vegetables like small rituals.

Sometimes they chose a cheap restaurant; sometimes they drifted through the supermarket and the mall like slow rivers.

All those crumbs of days were bright beads on a string; she didn’t deny a special warmth for Sham.

But she knew that warmth wasn’t this burning; the word “like” felt like another season entirely.

“I don’t know…” her reply drifted like smoke, refusing to take shape.

She could only offer a non-answer, a pebble tossed into a well that made no ripple.

“Then tell me—who do you like?” Sham’s words fell like cold rain.

“How would I even know…?” Yun Shi’s voice wavered like a reed in wind.

Fear pricked like nettles; she turned her face away like a bird escaping a stare.

Sham saw and forced her chin back, firm as iron.

“Say it—who do you like?” Sham’s demand struck like a drumbeat.

Sham repeated herself, her tone hard as a locked gate, leaving no room to refuse.

“I told you, I don’t know… ah—” the sound snagged like a torn kite on a wire.

At that answer, Sham’s face darkened like a brewing storm; her hand pressed harder on Yun Shi’s chest, pain blooming like a thorn.

“Do you think I’m a fool? You walk so close with so many—did you think I knew nothing?” Her words lashed like a whip.

“Sh-Sham, I—I…” Yun Shi’s tongue stumbled like pebbles tumbling down a slope.

Under Sham’s near-roar, Yun Shi shrank like a dusk-shadow; fear rose because the Sham before her felt like a stranger wearing her face.

“Maya Hanazaka, Moa-chan, Mizuki from our class—do you even know how many hearts you’re tangling?” Her voice scattered like thrown stones.

Yun Shi kept silent, lips sealed like a winter pond; she stared at the girl, terror fluttering like trapped birds.

“It’s Mizuki, isn’t it? I’m not wrong, am I? You’re closest with her.” Jealousy flickered like green fire in her eyes.

Sham’s broken smile twisted like cracked porcelain, a sight that tugged at the heart like cold hands.

“What are you talking about? I just…” her protest thinned like rain through a sieve.

“Am I wrong? Since you got close to her, you drifted from me like a boat leaving shore.” Her memory stung like salt.

“After school you used to come to me; now you run to her.” The accusation beat like wings.

“In every Underworld mess, you think of her first—where am I?” Her voice was a storm with my name torn out.

“Even the arcade—you call her before me; it’s always Mizuki!” Her words poured out like a river in flood.

Sham let it all spill like rain from a split sky; she’d bottled it too long, and the bottle finally cracked.

“Wasn’t I your only friend? Why did new shadows make you throw me away?” Her cry tore like a paper kite in wind.

“I didn’t…” Yun Shi’s denial fell like a leaf, too light to be heard.

“Then why do you reject me!” the question slammed like a door in a storm.

Tears fell one by one onto Yun Shi’s face like warm rain; Sham cried, her feelings breaking like a dam.

Sham only liked her—just that—her wish a small candle, and even that flame wouldn’t catch.

Words fled like startled birds; Yun Shi’s mind was a field of blank snow, and she’d never imagined it would turn this way.

If she had to name it, Yun Shi didn’t know who she liked—maybe no one at all, an empty cup with no taste.

To answer Sham in this storm, she couldn’t do it; her mouth was a winter gate, locked and rimed with frost.

“Sham, I’m sorry…” the apology drifted like ash, too slow to soothe.

Yun Shi reached for the back of Sham’s head and patted gently, a small shelter like palm leaves in rain.

Sham’s tears flowed harder, a river swelling, and Yun Shi could only stare at the ceiling, blank as chalk.