"Why did you hit me again!" Ling sprang up, rose on her tiptoes like a sparrow on a fence, trying to stare down at the inner Ling.

The inner Ling didn’t care; she pinched Ling’s little nose until it reddened like a winter berry, then let go with a cool breeze of indifference.

"Because that dreamy head of yours is chasing crooked thoughts, like a kite pulled by the wrong wind."

"How do you know what I’m thinking? You’re not me!" Her temper flared first, and then her voice shot out like a startled cat.

If she weren’t rubbing her nose and damming back tears about to spill like rain, that shout might’ve carried the iron of thunder.

"Still not getting it? I’m your inner persona. Of course our memories flow together, like two streams meeting."

"Then why can’t I look at yours?" Her doubt hung heavy, like fog over a river.

Hearing Ling couldn’t view her memories, the inner Ling basked in smugness like a cat in sun and replied with full tsundere flourish, "Not giving you a peek. Hmph~"

"Fine, don’t teach me. I’ll figure it out myself!" Pride lifted her chin like bamboo bracing against wind.

Ling closed her eyes; her mind dove like a silver fish into dark water, hunting for a path.

"Uh… don’t push yourself. I can teach—" The inner Ling knew self-discovery takes time, slow as moss, and reached to stop her.

But in the next heartbeat, Ling’s eyes snapped open, joy blooming like spring sunlight across her face. "Ah… found it!"

The inner Ling dropped to the floor and drummed her fists like stubborn rain on a tile roof.

So that’s my fate as a sub-persona—no matter if the main is a clueless loli, I still can’t win, like a knot that won’t loosen!

After cursing the unfair sky and taking a swipe at the clock, the inner Ling turned to Ling, who was already drowning in borrowed memories like a moth in lantern light.

"Leave those memories for now!" She tugged Ling out, yanking her like thread from a loom.

"We need to talk about something serious, like stone under water."

"What’s more important than your memories? I found tons of fun magic in there. Look…" A wavering green flame sprouted from Ling’s palm like a willow shoot.

Bonk—she earned nothing but a playful rap on the forehead, neat as a bell.

"Quit playing with dull tricks. Listen. Right now, Alicia’s taking us back to the Empire. What’s your plan?"

At Alicia’s name, Ling’s mood fell like dusk, and the little flame guttered to ash.

The inner Ling noticed the shift and sighed, a breeze through autumn reeds. "Still sad over that? To me, your heart’s too narrow. A Yokai can afford pride, but pride that abandons the one you love is a wrong road."

"But… I really used to…" The words trailed like smoke.

"I know what you mean. I’m the one who stuffed you into a man’s body, like stitching silk into burlap."

"So I was meant to be a woman from the start?" Her hope trembled like a leaf.

"Yes."

"Then why did you make me a man!" Her hurt flashed like lightning over a dry plain.

"Eh… lots of reasons. No, not for nasty fun—don’t flatter your own bad taste. Anyway, not today. Here’s the topic: are you going out? In about half an hour, that thing suppressing your feelings will ebb like tide, and you can leave this place. Do you want to go out, or stay?"

Silence fell—endless and cold, like snow on an empty field—so deep even the inner Ling didn’t expect her question to weigh that long.

At last, unable to bear it, the inner Ling spoke, a pebble dropped in still water. "I’ll go out first. Come when you’re ready. Meanwhile, sift my memories; your magic is still rough as uncut jade."

Ling thought for a moment, then nodded, like a reed bending and agreeing with the wind.

"Thank you… right, what should I call you? Are you Ling, or am I Ling?" Her need came first, anxious as a bird.

The inner Ling just shrugged, easy as cloud. "Call it whatever."

"No!" Ling’s protest cracked sharp, like a snapped branch. She scolded that careless idea, heat first, words after.

The inner Ling blinked—was Ling trying to draw a line, or afraid of losing herself, like ink bleeding on wet paper? It didn’t feel like something to fuss over.

"Then pick a name, and we’ll go with that."

Ling lowered her head, thought for a breath, and the spirit of the Naming King descended like a brush stroke; in a minute she decided. "Okay… I’ll be Yufan Lian, and you’ll be Yufan Ling… No, wait! I’ll go back to Yufan Ling; you be Yufan Lian!"

Lian didn’t care much for names; any sound would do, and “Lian” rings pleasant, like a bell at dusk.

"Mm. Let’s call it that. Sounds like a pair of sisters, like two blossoms on one branch."

With her idea accepted, Ling’s joy bubbled like a spring. "Hehe. As long as you like it."

Lian turned away and walked to a round hoop; she laid a hand upon it, and light flared like a struck firefly. An image formed within, showing the current world like a window of water.

"I’ll head out first. See you." Her farewell fell soft, like petals.

"Take it slow~" The inner reply waved like a ribbon in wind.

Alicia leaned over the bedside, her gaze fixed on Ling’s small face, patient as moonlight pooling on silk.

"Remi, when do you think Ling will wake?" Her worry rustled first, then words followed.

Remi bowed her head and answered with apology, quiet as rain. "Sorry, miss. It’s hard to predict a thing like that."

It was the seventeenth time Alicia asked, hope a thin candle she still shielded from drafts.

Suddenly, Ling’s brow twitched—just once—and Alicia caught it like a hawk catching a glint. "Remi! Ling’s awake. Go grab some food!"

"Yes." Remi slipped out, swift as a shadow.

Alicia smoothed her voice, softening the rush of her heartbeat. "Ling, are you okay? Sorry I’m late."

Ling didn’t answer; she lifted a hand and waved it before her eyes, testing the body like tapping porcelain for cracks. Alicia read it as stubborn anger, a girl pretending not to see.

"Ling, are you still mad at me?" Her plea came gentle, a thread pulled from the spool.

At her voice, Lian noticed Alicia beside her. Ling might be angry, but Lian was at the helm now; as the observer, she knew Alicia wasn’t wrong. She comforted first, then reached with words. "Don’t worry, Alicia. I never said I hated you."

"But earlier you clearly…" Doubt flickered like a moth.

"Sorry. That was my fault…" Lian’s admission fell warm, like tea.

Alicia jerked her head up, eyes locking on Lian’s, surprise spilling across her face like sunrise. "Ling! Are you really okay?"

Lian couldn’t help a laugh at her theatrics—such a fun person; no wonder Ling loves her. "I said I’m fine. I don’t care about that anymore."

"Really…" Alicia’s thoughts curled like steam—odd, but maybe something happened outside. Better not prod it; at least Ling and she had mended.

"Mm… Alicia, big sis, I’m hungry." The need came first, then the words, simple as bread.

Hearing hunger, Alicia tossed every thought aside and dashed out, swift as a deer, eager to help Remi speed the meal.

The room held only Lian’s lone silhouette again, but she didn’t mind. She lifted her gaze like a kite string to the sky, and with a small motion a chain coiled around her hand like moonlight. Its other end tugged at a strange book, resting like a sleeping animal.

Lian stroked the cover, gentle as a palm on an old friend’s cheek, and her eyes softened like dusk over water. "I’m out now… When will you come back and take me to see the lilies again?"

No answer came, only the wind, whooshing through the quiet like a river.

Unseen by Lian, elsewhere Aer stared at a screen flashing red warnings, resolve hard as granite in her gaze. "Soon. Wait for me a little, Ling… no, Lian."

No one heard that promise, and it drifted away like smoke.