The next day, Yekase skipped class outright, slipping out like a shadow at dawn.

After the first run of Witch Workshop, she had fixes like tangled vines, a new weapon for Ling Yi, and an evolved Gauntlet to strip down.

There was a mountain of work, stacked like crates in a dim warehouse.

Liu RuoYuan said today was the annual student-run day, so a homeroom teacher had nothing to do and stayed home, like rain taking a break.

She couldn’t understand Yekase’s tinkering, so she sat beside her in quiet, like a cat by a warm stove.

"Is Infinite Power fun?" Liu RuoYuan asked at last, her voice light as a leaf.

Yekase glanced at her and said, "Rather than fun, it’s a habit, like breathing."

"I try to slack off, but not building something makes my skin crawl, like ants under glass."

"Then it’s definitely fun," she said, smiling like a crescent moon.

"Let’s call it that," Yekase said, as memory flicked by like a train, recalling the talk before she boarded the plane.

Doing props while she watched felt like the first spring swallow in years, small and unbelievable.

She didn’t ask about results or purpose, didn’t expect, didn’t rush, just sat there, like a pine holding snow.

One made, one watched, steam between them like a sleeping kettle.

After a while she’d ask what to eat for dinner, and Yekase would name a dish or say whatever, like tossing a pebble in a pond.

"By the way, my friend’s bar has its grand opening tonight, so I’ll swing by after dinner to hold the line," Yekase said, like posting a lantern by dusk.

Liu RuoYuan frowned, brows folding like paper fans. "A high schooler going to a bar?"

"Uh, not that kind of bar," Yekase said. "More a secret base, a meetup spot, like a den under streetlights."

"Oh," Liu RuoYuan breathed, the syllable falling like a pin. She understood.

She had seen last night’s news about Magical Girl Icarus at the leveled factory ruins, flashing like lightning over rubble.

So today would be the hero hub, the debrief, the sharing of spoils, like ravens circling a field.

The headline screamed like a neon sign: "Shock! Social-butterfly hero Icarus, lone wolves can’t resist—sincere charm or scandalous flair?"

The photo showed Yekase and PeaceWarrior talking amid ruins, blurred like a keyhole shot, white sailor uniform and rod-like guns barely outlined.

The report claimed Magical Girl Icarus talked PeaceWarrior down for wrecking the factory, then teamed up to drive off Twin Towers, like warding off jackals.

Not a single point was right, which was impressive in its own crooked way, like an arrow curving backward.

"I want to go too," Liu RuoYuan said, dropping the words like a pebble into tea.

"Eh? Go for what?" Yekase blinked, like a deer catching a flash.

"As a hero’s family, I deserve the truth," she pouted, mouth tilting like a hooked fish.

"Otherwise if you die one day, I’ll have nowhere to ask," she snapped, the thought cold as rain.

"Don’t curse me dead!" Yekase shot back, heart thumping like a drum in fog.

She paused, then admitted it made sense, like laying cards flat on a table in storm light.

Her secrecy was tight, but leaks happen, like wind through shutters, and having context can trade for life in a pinch.

The Sinister Organization keeps a polished new Geneva Convention, gleaming like a brass scale on a judge’s bench.

Unlike their management codes, useful as labor law and dull as dust, the Convention gets used in disputes and is widely obeyed, like tides.

Eight articles cover prisoner treatment, ironclad as manacles, and state that cooperation for freedom must be honored with safe return.

What happens once the employer takes you back is another sea entirely, cold and uncharted.

"Fine, we’ll go together," Yekase said. "But for safety, wear the coat and mask I prepared the whole time, like armor at dusk."

"Identity secrecy, got it," Liu RuoYuan said, flashing an OK like a coin in sunlight.

She hadn’t expected Yekase to agree so easily, which warmed her like a stove in winter.

Yekase reached into her pocket and drew out the Legion mask, pale as a moon pulled from a sleeve.

"Uh, the paint job’s ugly," Liu RuoYuan muttered, nose wrinkling like a rabbit.

"Don’t sweat it," Yekase said, and pressed the mask to her face as a matching jacket dropped from above like a parachute.

"You scared me!" Liu RuoYuan yelped, voice skipping like a stone.

"This coat lives as data inside the mask," Yekase said, grin quick as mercury.

"It auto-decompresses and falls like this, and if you raise your hands to catch it, it feels Kamen Rider, like a henshin onstage."

Liu RuoYuan put the jacket on and pinched the collar to sniff, like a fox testing a trail.

"Mm, no smell," she said, calm as clear water.

"You’re such a mom," Yekase groaned, face heating like a kettle.

"There’s even a faint girly scent?" Liu RuoYuan teased, eyes glinting like stars.

"..."

Yekase had no comeback, words scattering like sparrows from a branch.

Being teased by a sister who knew her roots made her want to crawl under the table, like a turtle to its shell.

Maybe that was proof her mind hadn’t fully turned female yet, a tide still turning.

"But it’s really convenient," Liu RuoYuan said. "If we could make a dressing template like this, mornings would shrink like frost."

Their laziness matched like twin shadows at noon, easy and shameless.

"Not impossible," Yekase said after a beat, brows knitting like stitches.

"I’ve got a similar product for a staff’s form-switching, but it’s for inorganics, so the interaction’s rough, like bark."

"On a person, we’d need finer coordinate locks and safety checks, or it gets dangerous, like thin ice."

"Mm-hmm, I don’t understand a word," Liu RuoYuan said, head tilting like a sparrow.

She found the mask’s voice changer and flicked it twice, then went ah-ah, like a kid with a kazoo.

The speaker spat a piercing note that could charge a phone, sharp as lightning in a jar.

"So cool, so edgy! I can’t wait," she said, bouncing like a spring. "Why not go now?"

"Dinner?!" Yekase protested, hunger knocking like a spoon on a pot.

"You said whatever, right? We’ll grab something near the bar," Liu RuoYuan said, waving it off like smoke.

"Uh..." Yekase faltered, resolve wilting like greens in steam.

Since moving to Twin Towers City, Liu RuoYuan had fed her hot meals and kept the room fresh as a reset screen.

Resisting this de facto housekeeper was like pushing back the tide with a broom, hopeless and comic.

They left home and headed toward the bar, footsteps ticking like beads on a wire.

"I’ll call two more people," Yekase said, thumb flying like a dragonfly.

"You actually...?" Liu RuoYuan stared, disbelief blooming like a startled flower.

"You actually have friends..." she whispered, voice thin as thread.

"People you know too," Yekase said, sending messages like paper cranes.

"Sent them the address to the bar, let’s eat first," she added, pocketing the phone like a stone.

"Okay~," Liu RuoYuan sang, the note curling like steam.

"So, what to eat?" Yekase asked, eyes bright as coals.

"Whatever," Liu RuoYuan said, shrugging like a loose scarf.

"Skewer hotpot?" Yekase offered, the idea bubbling like broth.

"Deal," Liu RuoYuan said, crisp as a snap.

Done, decision settled like a coin on a table.

Skewer hotpot is cheap and varied, a lifesaver when Yekase’s mind goes blank, like rain filling a cistern.

She hadn’t gone since Liu RuoYuan moved in, the habit shelved like an umbrella in sun.

The nearby shop was a classic greasy hole-in-the-wall, buzzing like a fly behind glass.

After Yekase befriended the owner and upgraded the cold case, it felt cleaner than peers, like a washed stone in a stream.

"Tongfu Guest Skewers..." Liu RuoYuan read from the plastic signboard, syllables clacking like beads.

They took a two-top, and Yekase eyed the wall-long cold case like a hunter at a river.

"Their fish sits too long, but the chicken, duck, beef, and lamb are fine," she said, voice flat as slate.

"Got it," Liu RuoYuan said, nodding like a reed.

"Who’s badmouthing my place?" the owner laughed, emerging with an oil-stained apron like a battle flag.

"Isn’t this Little Leaf? Long time no see, what fancy joints stole you away from our shack?" he said, leaning on the counter like a dockpile.

"Long time," Yekase nodded. "Sorry, next time I’ll badmouth you behind your back," she said, grin quick as a fox.

"Hahaha, hearing your slick tongue again sets me at ease," the owner boomed, joy warm as soup.

Liu RuoYuan looked from Yekase to the owner and back, words hovering like moths.

"And this is? Girlfriend?" the owner asked, eyebrows wagging like oars.

"Not that. This is my m... sister," Yekase said, pivoting midair like a swallow.

"Heard you had a distant younger sister, never heard of an older one," he said. "Welcome! Twenty percent off today, take whatever," he added, generous as summer rain.

"Uh, thanks," Liu RuoYuan said, smiling like porcelain.

Other customers heard "twenty percent" and started hooting like sparrows in eaves.

"Eh, that’s some treatment," one called, grin wide as a sail.

"What about ours?" another chimed, fingers drumming like rain.

"Boss must’ve fallen for the sisters," someone jeered, spark tossing like a match.

"Scram," the boss barked, but his eyes softened like butter under sun.

"If you love fanning flames so much, get in back and light the stove," he growled, then folded under a dozen puppy eyes like paper.

"Fine, everyone here right now gets twenty percent off," he conceded. "Don’t tell new folks," he added, finger to lips like a seal.

The room cheered and clapped, hands beating like wings, and a few thumbs shot at Yekase like torches.

Yekase stood and raised both hands in salute, playful as a street performer.

Watching this, Liu RuoYuan started doubting reality, her mind wobbling like a compass near magnetite.

"This social skill—who even are you..." she murmured, voice foggy as dew.

Yekase deadpanned and flashed a V, cool as moonlight. "I’m Yekase, the beloved genius inventor girl of Red Flower Street, Tianxin District, Twin Towers City."

"A normie... an actual normie..." Liu RuoYuan cried, covering her eyes like a stage diva.

"How can a normie exist here?" she wailed, drama fluttering like a fan.

"Grab the skewers," Yekase said, patience thinning like ice.

"My sister is a community social butterfly, please no," Liu RuoYuan groaned, words buzzing like bees.

"You make it sound like I’m selling myself," Yekase said, cheeks puffing like buns.

"Girls can’t say such crude things," Liu RuoYuan scolded, prim as a lily.

She pinched Yekase’s cheeks and shook lightly, like kneading mochi on a board.

Then she discovered a new texture and began to rub and knead, curious as a raccoon.

"Grab. The skewers," Yekase said again, syllables dropping like pebbles.

"I know, I know," Liu RuoYuan replied, hands fluttering like sparrows.

They each picked over thirty skewers and returned, sticks clacking like bamboo wind chimes.

The broth reached a rolling boil just then, roaring like a small storm.

They dropped in shiitakes first to enrich the soup, like leaves steeping in rain.

Then ten lamb skewers per side of the split pot, meat blanched thirty seconds till brown, like dusk on snow.

They lifted the meat to cool, steam trailing like banners, then slid in wild greens, potato slices, and beef aorta, crisp as river reeds.

Yekase had brought cola from home, and she popped the tab with a snap like a spark.

She drank a long gulp, bubbles racing like fireflies.

"So, you’ll call me sister from now on?" Liu RuoYuan asked, eyes bright as stars.

"Pft!" Yekase almost sprayed the table, shock bursting like a bubble.

"Don’t go feral here," she hissed, embarrassment crawling like ivy.

"You just called me sister," Liu RuoYuan said, smile sly as a fox.

"That was expedient," Yekase said, leaning on reason like a cane.

"From common sense, that cover story is the smoothest," she added, words lined up like bricks.

"Mm? Sounds as believable as the girlfriend story, since we don’t look alike," Liu RuoYuan said, logic clean as glass.

Fair point, like a blade turned in light.

If it were the previous self, standing with Liu RuoYuan would scream siblings, like mirror trees on a bank.

But with Yekase’s current face—after that Flash Energy baptism at the horizon—who knows whose blood runs here, like a river renamed.

If she wants to be Yekase, she is Yekase, identity settling like dust after wind.

With the 22-year-old Liu RuoYuan, the closest tie is homeroom teacher and problem student, like chalk and desk.

"I..." Yekase began, the word thin as a hair.

Silence pooled, and she slid into a whirl of dysphoria and loss, like a leaf swallowed by a vortex.

"But none of that matters," Liu RuoYuan said, voice steady as a lantern in rain.

She used her chopsticks to slide the beef aorta off the sticks and into Yekase’s bowl, generous as a river.

"We reunited in victory, so what problem can be big," she said, warmth settling like sunlight.

"That’s what family is," she added, simple as bread.

"Here—your favorite beef aorta," she finished, the gift light as a feather.