Tears fell, bead by bead, onto Yun Shi’s face. The girl’s sobs swelled like ripples on a pond. She was on top, yet she felt small.
Yun Shi could do nothing; she let her vent, like standing in a cold rain.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know. It just feels like I have to…”
Yun Shi stopped struggling, limp like a willow after wind. She left herself to fate.
She hadn’t noticed Sham’s feelings—or never dared to think it. Name it, and it’s a bell that can’t be unrung.
She remembered long ago, before she was born into this world. Back then she was a regular college kid, craving a relationship, watching friends pair off while she stayed a lone lamp in the night.
Reborn here, she shelved romance like a book she wouldn’t open again. If she could, she’d spend a lifetime alone.
But fate loves irony. The girl beside her had fallen for her—and she was a girl too.
“I never really thought about what others felt. I just acted on my own. Maybe that’s why I offended many.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sham, I never considered your thoughts, or anyone’s. Maybe this is my punishment.”
Yun Shi tilted her head, a small bird folding its wings. She didn’t resist.
Truth is, she felt guilty—guilty she couldn’t answer Sham’s heart.
She’d never been frank, but now she stopped hiding. Fear of losing Sham gnawed like winter wind, so she did the little she could.
“Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me!”
Sham’s emotions bucked like a wild horse. She grew rough. Yun Shi just clenched her teeth and took it.
“You think this makes me happy? Why? Even now you won’t answer me—why!”
“Sham…”
“I like you. I like you so much. Won’t you even allow me that?”
“It’s not like that…”
“Then tell me—what am I supposed to do?”
“Because I don’t know. That’s why I can’t answer.”
She couldn’t promise Sham. She didn’t know if she’d ever felt that way for anyone.
To her, Sham was a friend—only a friend.
Seconds slid away, and the air cooled like dusk over water. They said nothing, just waited, eyes locked while time drained between them.
“Xiao Yun…”
After a long while, Sham spoke.
Yun Shi waited, still as a stone. No one would know how scared she was, afraid of a bad ending.
“I’m sorry.”
Just that one line. Simple, yet it carried all her weathered feelings.
Fair, really. Dropping a storm like that on someone—anyone would break.
Once she cooled down and thought, guilt seeped in.
“I truly don’t know… how to do this right…”
Sham lay across Yun Shi, refusing to rise, like a cat clinging to warmth.
Yun Shi patted her back and stayed quiet. Back in college, friends would tap her shoulder like that, a small balm.
Maybe they’d share a pillow tonight, she thought, the idea fluttering like a thin curtain.
But she couldn’t think too far. Things were getting knotted; the rest would have to wait till tomorrow.
London, England. Daylight still hung, and people’s routines ticked on like clockwork.
On the beach, a girl dragged her battered body, step by grinding step. Her breath ran fast; her heart hammered faster. Only her steady eyes held.
“It’s late. We’ll stop here.”
After tormenting Mizuki for ages, Andrea finally sheathed her weapon and said it.
Andrea had never planned to hold back. Mizuki ending up covered in bruises was expected.
With the Underworld as it is, every minute is precious. Andrea can’t spend all of it on Mizuki; she has other battles to fight.
Hunting the Church is her main task. She’d planned it long ago. Then Mizuki barged in, and she became a reluctant mentor. By her original plan, she’d be finding a proper squad for war now.
“No. Let me keep training!”
That caught Andrea off guard.
“Why? Your body can’t take it.”
“Even so, I can’t stop. Please keep fighting me, Ms. Andrea!”
“…You’re impossible.”
Seeing that stubborn fire, Andrea set her stance again.
Bang!
Mizuki was sent flying. She tumbled for yards, then crawled up, face smeared with grit.
Boom!
Andrea’s strikes held no mercy. Each blow crashed into the girl till every organ screamed warning.
Bang!
Sharp fists and kicks rained down. Mizuki’s vision blurred, but she grit her teeth and pushed through.
Seeing Mizuki covered in welts, blood at her lip, Andrea felt vexed.
“Mizuki, tell me—why fight me to this point?”
“Because… you said you don’t teach. So you can only fight me. If I don’t fight, how do I train?”
Dusty and dogged, Mizuki gave a slightly foolish grin.
“That can’t be your reason to grow strong. You know this—suicidal practice won’t work.”
“I know. But… I don’t have that much time. So I have to work harder than anyone.”
“Is it worth it?”
“That’s not the point. I can’t yield. If I lose here, I bow to fate.”
Miyuki Kiseki was thinking of the one who lives in her heart. She needs power to protect, and the need burns urgent.
She cannot give up; giving up kills every chance. If she wants to seize that hand, she must have the strength to claim it.
That’s Mizuki’s creed.
“Even so, you can’t train more today. I don’t have time to spare.”
Andrea said it coldly, then lunged. One punch to her gut, and pain switched Mizuki off.
Andrea hoisted the girl and couldn’t help a few dry thoughts.
She had to admit it—Mizuki was a mirror of her younger self. Chasing strength by self-harm, just to carve a place in the Underworld.
“If I am not mistaken, you are worrying about Mizuki. She is your student, is she not?”
Elena the Weapon Spirit chimed in, her teasing loli voice soft as a bell.
Andrea glanced up while carrying the girl. A thin sorrow passed over her cool face, then vanished. She walked on, slow across the beach, like tide pulling back.
