“Alright, stop crying. You’re not a kid. Do you really need a little girl like me to pat your tears away like rain off a window?”

Only after those words did Alicia’s sobs ebb, like tides pulling back from shore. Her eyes stayed red, dusk-rimmed and glossy, as if another wave might break any second.

“So, anything else you want to ask? Don’t tell me that was your one and only question.”

Alicia rubbed her eyes, red as ripe cherries, and nodded with a small, leaf-light motion.

“Yeah… what exactly are you and Ling to each other?”

“Our relationship? Emmm… Ling can be me, and I can also not be Ling,” she said, like speaking to a mirror fogged by breath.

That tongue-twister of an answer twisted Alicia’s thoughts into knotted string; her mind snagged like fishline on reeds.

“What do you mean?”

“Think of it like this: Ling and I belong to one soul, like one river that split into two branches. We’re not the legend of one soul in two bodies at birth. We became two people later, after an accident, yet we’re still of one soul.”

“Emmm… split personality?”

“Not a bad way to put it. If that helps, use it,” she said, with a calm like still water.

Alicia’s confusion thinned like morning fog; she saw enough of the shore to stop pushing that raft farther.

“Then let’s skip that. You said you can’t reach Ling—what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing huge. Ling’s caught on a single problem, horns stuck in a narrow gate. She fell in and can’t climb out. I want to help, but the line’s full of static—I can’t get through.”

Alicia fell quiet, like a candle cupped in two hands. She summarized two stones in her heart: this girl wasn’t the original Ling, Ling was trapped in some trouble and couldn’t return, and this one… might be Ling’s little sister? That thought fluttered like steam on a bathroom mirror, and it even explained why Ling pushed her away then. So if Ling comes back someday, does she still have a chance?

“Uh… what should I call you, then?”

“Ling gave me a name, with her family name. Full name: Yufan Lian. Just call me Lian,” she said, the name soft as silk sliding off a spindle.

“Yufan… Lian. Sounds like real sisters, two leaves on one branch. If I’d known, I would’ve had Ling take my surname—Moser.”

“No way. Moser Lian clanks like a rusty bell,” she said, wincing like someone tasting bitter tea.

“Meh~ just joking.”

That joke eased their serious air like a tight string relaxing. Alicia breathed out, a warm cloud in winter, and asked the question that burned like a lantern.

“Then… how do I help her?”

At that, Lian’s mouth curved into a crescent moon. Figures… Alicia was the type to charge through fire for a friend, a hot-blooded fool with a torch-heart.

“No need. Some knots Ling must untie herself. If we tug, the rope tightens. Our meddling only muddles and makes it worse.”

“Just leave her alone? Won’t she be pitiful, lonely like a winter sparrow?”

Pitiful…? Lian’s thought rose first, cold as moonlight on an empty plain. If a few days of solitude count as pitiful, what name fits centuries of waiting in silence?

A sad, frost-delicate smile touched Lian’s face.

Alicia spotted the chill on her cheeks and knew her words had cut like a blunt blade. Even if she didn’t fully understand, this wasn’t the hour to probe that wound.

“Anyway… if that’s settled, let’s drop it. Let’s have fun for a while. Look—the concert’s still singing like a river!”

Clumsy topic shift, duck-footed and sweet as rice wine. Lian couldn’t help smiling; that clumsiness felt homely, like a hearth.

Where Alicia couldn’t see, a little ping kept chiming—Yufan Lian’s affection +1—like fireflies blinking behind a screen.

“Heh~ yeah. Let’s soak in Hatsune’s songs, like rain on bamboo. No more heavy talk.”

Lian rose from her seat and settled into Alicia’s lap, nest-soft like a kitten. Alicia startled, then wrapped her arms around Lian, gentle as a shawl. They watched Hatsune dance onstage, light rippling like a lake. No one dared break that hush.

“Well then! Thanks for coming,” Hatsune’s voice rang like bell-chimes. “That’s it for the concert. Now I want to chat. I never get to share these things.”

She walked to the edge of the stage, finger an arrow of light toward Alicia and Lian. The spotlights swung over, moonbeams pinning them in gold.

“These two are my new friends! Princess Alicia with her flame-red hair, and cute little Ling with sunlit blond.”

Before the crowd could ask why, a whirlwind unfurled under Hatsune’s feet, a dancing dragon lifting her. She drifted toward them, body gliding like a kite on a steady breeze.

“It sounds silly, but ever since my songs got famous, I haven’t laughed so freely,” she said, voice warm as dawn. “These two gave me back my smile. They broke into my birdcage, cracked the chains that held me, and carried me off. Totally unreasonable kidnappers.”

By the time she finished, Hatsune was right before them. She leapt like a swallow; Alicia caught her, arms a harbor. Hatsune lay in Alicia’s embrace and smiled, sun breaking through rain. “But… I don’t mind. Thank you—Alicia, Lian.”

She slipped gently from Alicia’s hold and stood steady, roots down like a willow. She faced the crowd and offered a healing smile, soft as spring light on old snow.

“And thank you, too, for a school festival this happy. I hope we meet again.” She patted Lian’s back, a drumbeat on silk. Lian blinked, then understood in a flash, like flint sparking.

“Arcane Doppelganger—Double,” she whispered, the words a feather. The ceiling cracked like ice under a hammer; two figures dropped like hawks and scooped up Hatsune and the others. Lian got slung over a shoulder, light as a bundle of reeds.

“Ahh—help—kidnapping—so scary~” Hatsune’s theatrics rang like carnival trumpets; her grin made fear look like confetti. A hothead in the crowd still drew a weapon, cold iron flashing. It was the woman who’d vowed to take Hatsune back. “Put Hatsune down, you bastard!”

The clones moved under Lian’s control; they wouldn’t listen to a gust of rage. They sprang like cats and vanished like smoke, taking the three offstage.

The woman watched their receding silhouettes, shadows sliced by stage light. She lowered the gun and rubbed her forehead with a sigh, wind emptying from a sail.

“You win… again.”

“By the way, Sis Hatsune, is it okay to bolt like this?” Lian’s voice floated, a leaf riding the current.

Wind slipped past Hatsune’s ears like silk, and she laughed, bright as bells. Only when Lian called did she return to herself, feet finding the air.

“It’s fine. I’ll handle the rest,” she said, eyes clear as a high sky. “That concert told me what I want. The caged bird is gone. She’s flying farther than before.”

“Really… that’s wonderful,” Lian breathed, relief pouring like warm tea.

Seeing Hatsune free herself from the knot, light as water slipping from a loop, Lian thought of a certain fool with a stubborn heart.

If only Ling could untangle her threads like this…

“Then let’s play a while longer,” Alicia said, voice velvet as nightfall. “Special permission: you can go all night, Lian.”

The proposal won instant cheers, popping like firecrackers. Lian threw both hands up like two banners in the wind, full support twice over. After all, the night stretched long and soft, a river of stars.