Inside the carriage, Shelika sipped black tea with a swan’s calm, steam curling like a pale ribbon as the wheels hummed beneath us. “Didn’t I tell you to stay in the city? Why are you on my coach?”
Charlotte didn’t care about the dirt freckles on her clothes; she knelt on the floor like a stubborn pup and pleaded, “Please, Big Sister, I want to travel with you!”
“This isn’t a trip,” Shelika’s voice went cold, a winter wind through silk curtains. “The road’s full of danger. What if someone dies by accident?”
Charlotte dipped her head, small and sulky like a wilted leaf. “If someone dies, I’ll take responsibility…”
Shelika’s temper popped like oil in a pan. “You— you—”
But she swallowed the fire, letting it drift like ash. She set down her cup, crouched, and met Charlotte’s eyes with spring-soft warmth. “We agreed before we set out, right? You stay in the city and live your own life, okay~?”
Charlotte lifted her chin, stubborn as a mountain goat. “I want to stay by Big Sister’s side!”
“Why do you want to stay by my side?”
Charlotte lit up instantly, eyes shining like two fireflies. “So I can protect my favorite Big Sis anytime~!”
“Ah… silly little thing. Fine, then…”
“Awesome~~!”
She lunged in for a hug. Soft warmth poured into Shelika’s arms, and the faint scent on Charlotte’s hair rose like morning mist; Shelika’s heart fluttered like caged birds.
She liked the kid— that carefree smile was sunlight through clouds, thinning her worries. But this wasn’t a stroll; it was Fulin’s march to stop the Hymn Project, a blade against the quiet of ordinary life, and Charlotte wouldn’t help much on that road.
Worse, Shelika wasn’t herself at all. Wearing another’s skin was a mask of frost, and tricking someone this bright felt like chewing sand. As a former ordinary person, Fulin’s conscience throbbed like a sore tooth, and sooner or later—
Resolve steadied her like a stone dropped in a well. The actress behind Shelika, Fulin, made up her mind.
“Charlotte, I should tell you now.” Shelika loosened the hug, set Charlotte before her, and spoke with temple-bell solemnity.
“What is it~?” Charlotte blinked, pure as a sky with no clouds.
Shelika’s words snagged; she bit her lip, arms crossed tight, nerves wound like harp strings. Seeing Charlotte still sunny, she drew a long breath, letting her tension melt like snow.
She stepped back and released Dual Incarnation.
A rose-dark silhouette in full bloom scattered into a thousand bats like ink petals, then shrank into a small, smaller, smallest figure— no—
Even more childlike than Charlotte, cute as a morning bud.
This was Fulin.
“That’s the thing.” Fulin sighed, pointing at herself with a leaf-light hand.
Charlotte’s mind froze like a lake in winter; she stared, dazed, as seconds crept like snails. After two long minutes, shock burst out—
“Oh no, a casualty~~ Big Sis secretly had a daughter!”
“No, hold on—” Fulin cut in, panic flaring like sparks.
Too late. Charlotte, taller by a head, scooped Fulin up with star-bright eyes and spun once like a child with a favorite doll. “And she’s grown this big, and this cute~!”
“Calm down, will you~~!” Fulin snapped, and tore herself free.
“Oops, bad!” The force flew out like a loosened bowstring.
She’d failed to throttle back her level-320 strength; Charlotte slammed the carriage wall with a drum-like thud.
Charlotte slid down the panel like a cat, perfectly fine, then sighed with theatrical grief. “Big Sis’s daughter is so shy— won’t even let me hug~~”
Fulin planted her feet, hands on hips, chest puffed like a sparrow trying to look like a hawk. “I am not Shelika’s daughter!”
Charlotte’s brain ran on warm butter; she refused to believe it. “Eh-eh-eh? Kids shouldn’t lie~~~”
She edged closer, a mischievous breeze in lace, then fished a hard candy from her skirt and waggled it like a lure. “Call me Sis and I’ll give you a sweet, okay~?”
“No.” Fulin said the word, but her fingers flashed like a kingfisher; she snatched the candy and popped it in her mouth. “Hah. That’s what you get for not listening— I’ll eat your candy!”
She stuck out a quick, impish tongue and flicked the sweet along its back, tapping it left and right like a pearl— “Nyeh-nyeh-nyeh~~!”
Charlotte stomped, tiny thunder on wood. “Hey, you little rascal~!”
Fulin laughed with hands on hips, a villain’s cackle bubbling like a spring. “Wahaha~~~!”
Halfway through, she shook herself like a bell. “No— can’t get dumber following this person!”
She straightened and spoke with the prim air of a child playing judge, voice polished like jade. “I’m not Shelika’s daughter. I’m Fulin. Remember it.”
Charlotte forgot her anger in a blink; hearts floated in her gaze like pink balloons. “So Big Sis named you Fulin— what a lovely name~!”
“You— you!!” Fulin’s temper beat like a drum; she almost lost it completely.
She breathed deep, letting the storm pass like rain. “Why do you think I’m Shelika’s daughter?”
She pressed on, eyes bright as steel. “And seeing Shelika suddenly turn into someone you don’t even know— that doesn’t strike you as strange?”
Charlotte tilted her head, stubborn as a stone lantern. “Eh-eh-eh~~? You’ve got a point, but I still disagree.”
“Of course you disagree,” Fulin muttered, rising on tiptoes and pinching the lace of her skirt, trying to muster thunder with a sparrow’s body. She didn’t know it looked adorable from the side.
Charlotte squinted, mischief like crescent moons, and pointed at Fulin’s back. “If you’re not Shelika’s daughter, then explain why you don’t have wings?”
The Dark Blood Clan all bear wings like bat-sails. As a Chaos Vampire, Fulin naturally didn’t.
Fulin refused to explain; she countered with logic sharp as a needle. “What do wings have to do with being that woman’s daughter?!”
Charlotte stood her ground, hands on hips, stance tall as bamboo. “Everything~~!”
“As far as I know, a Blood Clan and human half-breed doesn’t grow wings—”
“Shelika must’ve spent sixty years in lonely quiet, couldn’t stand the emptiness, went from restless to reckless, then got taken by some human mutt— damn humans—”
“As a half-blood, you must’ve had it rough. But don’t worry, Sis will love you well. I’ll give you all the love your poor mom and that mutt dad never gave you. Come here~!”
Fulin heard the wild fanfiction and watched Charlotte morph into something between lovestruck fool and broody hen; anger roared up like a kettle boiling over. “You— you—!!”
